


Life and Such

by Wintergrew



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Canonical Child Abuse, College, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Getting Back Together, Growing Up, High School, Kevin and Esther are twins, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, Past Child Abuse, Rating May Change, Red and Craig are cousins, Self-Esteem Issues, Underage Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator, drug induced self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintergrew/pseuds/Wintergrew
Summary: Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak have been together since elementary school and seemingly couldn't be happier. What leads Tweek to suddenly break it off on the night of their prom?(Endgame Creek. Please heed tags)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in my head for a while now. I decided to write this chapter/prologue with kind of an experimental writing style for me. Other chapters should be considerably longer.
> 
> Anyway, as tags say, this fic will switch POVs and deal with canonical mental health, drug abuse, child abuse, and other issues Tweek faces.
> 
> I hate to spoil, but since a lot of people don't like to read things that may have sad endings I do have it labeled as Angst with a Happy Ending and Endgame Creek.

Tweek Tweak was the sort of person who in most circumstances people would go out of their way to avoid. Not because he was a _bad_ person with an intolerable personality like Eric Cartman. Tweek's the type of person who you intentionally look away from, as one does a homeless or severely disfigured person. Not so much out of hatred, but instead as if trying not to be rude and show an inherent discomfort and instead looks away as if to overcompensate the need to not stare.

If Craig were to be perfectly honest with himself, had he not been set up with Tweek all those years ago, he might not have considered him as a romantic partner. Tweek wasn’t by any means ugly, but there were certainly a lot of aspects of him that seemed unappealing if one were to briefly glance upon him.

To start, he was very skinny. There were other thin boys in their class, like Kyle Broflovski and Kenny McCormick. With Kyle, it was balanced out by his tall height and seemed more a matter of how he was biologically built. With Kenny, although it was due to his family’s poverty, the way Kenny presented himself greatly hid this. What body fat he did have was lean muscle and his attitude gave his face a sort of glow that made him look alive.

Tweek, however, always came across as unhealthily skinny. No one would ever say that someone like Kenny McCormick looks fragile, but Tweek on the other hand had a frailty about him. Tweek was in fact capable of holding his own in a fight when need be, but Craig always worried that one direct punch from a skilled fighter to the wrong place could break him.

Even if Tweek gained weight, he would still look fragile and unhealthy. Living in the cold mountain town of South Park, it wasn’t abnormal for people to lack a suntan. Yet Tweek managed to look even paler than everyone else, as if he never spent a day in the sun in his life. His palid white skin stuck to his bones and magnified every single bruise and cut on his body, which were quite numerous. His lips were perpetually chapped, to varying degrees. His thin underweight face, frequently sporting a worried expression, appeared sunken. Added with deep dark circles beneath his eyes giving him an almost Tim Burton-esque appearance.

His hair was always unkempt. His clothes several sizes too large. Buttons were always done incorrectly. He was frequently fidgeting. His hands and nails had bite marks from chewing on them by nervous habit.

But after dating him for so long, Craig Tucker didn’t see any of that. To him, Tweek Tweak was the most beautiful person in the world.

Having dated since elementary school, it was a no brainer that they would be each other’s prom dates. Even still, Craig went out of his way to make a spectacle out of his prom invitation to his boyfriend. He took his boyfriend out to Stark’s Pond one night to watch the stars with his new telescope he received last Christmas. He told Tweek that there was a going to be something special in the night sky and that they had to go out and watch.

Tweek was worried that they were out too late, after Stark’s Pond was closed to the public. Still, when Craig said it would be okay and that this was important, he believed him. Tweek trusted him more than anyone.

Carefully, Craig aimed the telescope towards the night sky and had Tweek look.

“The stars are pretty and all, but what am I supposed to be looking at?” Tweek asked.

“There are three stars all clustered together and then there’s one a little to the right on its own. See it?”

“Uh, I think so? But it looks like any other star.”

“Yeah well, I went to some website. And uh. I don’t know how official it is or if it’s some scam company but uh. I paid some company money, and now I have a certificate that says its named ‘Tweek’.”

Tweek shot up, looking away from the telescope and directly onto Craig’s moonlit face.

“So you know, uh. Even if it’s total bullshit. I thought it’d be cool to name a star after you and all. I mean it sounded like a romantic idea and all.”

Tweek remained silent, still looking at Craig. Craig was always terrible at sounding romantic.

“So uhh...this is my way of asking you to prom.”

Tweek started laughing.

“Too lame?” Craig asked, his voice slightly cracking out of worry.

Tweek continued to laugh, but then grabbed his boyfriend into a tight hug and kissed him on the lips.

“That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me,” Tweek said softly into Craig’s neck, still holding onto him. He then grabbed Craig’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “But I was supposed to be the one asking you to prom. I spent all afternoon baking and decorating a cake to ask you tomorrow at lunch!”

The two laughed and kissed each other once more.

As the latter half of their final semester at senior year rolled around, leading up to prom, they continued to be inseparable. They held hands in the hallways, giving each other a quick kiss before heading off to their respective classes.

Tweek still had severe anxiety, he was still fidgety, he still was found covered in strange, unexplainable injuries, but over the years he seemed to be getting much better. Around Craig, he almost appeared to be what society dictated as “normal”. 

When prom finally came around, Tweek looked absolutely stunning.

Craig didn’t notice Tweek’s dark circles but instead how stunningly blue his eyes were. His soft yellow hair was no longer messy, but instead brushed down and framing his face nicely. His well-fitted tux complemented Craig’s--they picked it out together--along with matching blue and green flowers in their boutineers. 

He was perfect to Craig.

They shared a limo with their friends. Clyde with Bebe, Token with Nicole, and Jimmy with some girl from North Park High. They all chatted away, Clyde and Bebe bickering as usual, while Tweek leaned on Craig’s arm.

Their prom was at a nice hotel in downtown Denver, and Craig rented him and Tweek a room to spend the night in after it was over. The theme of the prom was “A Night in Paris”. Normally, Craig would have found this whole thing ridiculously lame, but he knew how important this sort of thing was to Tweek.

So he didn’t complain when he found the overpriced hotel food cold. He didn’t joke when they slow danced to some crappy Ed Sheeran song. He didn’t make a wisecrack comment when Stan and Wendy were crowned Prom King and Queen.

He wanted Tweek to enjoy himself. His boyfriend had a tough life. He wanted to make this night perfect for him, to show Tweek that he’s there for him. A sort of preview of how great their life will be together once they break free of their hell town that is South Park.

He liked taking care of Tweek. He intended to do so for the rest of their lives.

So when Tweek said, “I think after tonight we should break up” it was like a knife had been plunged into Craig’s gut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose Fault Is It Anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally the next two chapters were going to be one long one, but I decided to split it up into two, with this being the first half. Tags specify that this story will have an alternating POV, but we're going to remain in Craig's for a little while.

Craig dated a lot of girls in elementary school. He also broke up with a lot of girls. Usually for petty reasons, only to then never have a second thought about it.

 

Sure, elementary school was different than high school. Dating back then was more akin to playing pretend.

 

And yeah, in hindsight he was in fact gay.

 

Still, he would be with some nice girl for a while and would suddenly end it all with an abrupt, “Yeah, I just don’t want to date you now.”

 

He was always popular with girls, which was undeserved. Back then he _was_ kind of a huge dick to them. Not intentionally, but it was something he realized when he was older.

 

In high school, they all brushed it off. “It was elementary school, that’s different,” they’d say. Or a, “Well it makes sense now that we all know you’re gay.”

 

To be even more fair, he had broken it off with Tweek in the past, too.

 

There were times they fought. When they were still in fourth grade they nearly broke it off for good over some silly superhero game they were playing. There _were_ times in high school where they would get in an argument over something petty. They would _say_ they were breaking up. Maybe they would in fact stop talking to each other for a week or so. Craig really would be pretty bummed out about it.

 

Though deep down, part of him knew it was inevitable they would make up. They were just too good together.

 

Even though he was only a teenager, he was pretty sure that he was in love with Tweek. He was a pretty realistic guy who knew high school sweethearts pretty much never end up together anymore, but he figured Tweek and him were an exception.

 

And to be honest, he figured  _everyone_ thought that they would be an exception.

 

“Damn, Tweek really is lucky to have you,” people would say to him on a regular basis. Even Kenny McCormick once said to him, “If it weren’t for you, I’m pretty sure Tweek would have been totally fucked by now.”

 

Craig wasn’t sure if that was true, but he loved feeling like he was something positive to Tweek. He wasn’t usually one to really be invested in other people’s wellbeing as much as he should, but with Tweek, it was like it became his life goal to help him.

 

 _“Yeah, I’m breaking up with you,”_ Craig recalled his third grade self saying to Esther Stoley, _“I just don’t think you’re good enough for me."_

 

Craig cringed, dwelling about what he said all those years ago. He really didn’t care about Esther, but she didn’t deserve that. Even if he _was_ a confused gay eight year old at the time.

 

_“I think after tonight we should break up.”_

 

The words Tweek said were a lot less cruel.

 

_“What do you mean ‘break up’?”_

 

At the time Craig tried to brush it off with a laugh, albeit not a very convincing one.

 

_“I mean I think we can’t continue our relationship. I think we both have to move on.”_

 

_“Tweek, don’t be dramatic. Why would we move on when we’re both perfectly happy together for so long? ”_

 

Tweek’s face remained perfectly blank.

 

_“I just think it’d be better if we called it off. It’s what I want.”_

 

_“What, are you not having fun?”_

 

_“It’s not about that.”_

 

 _“You know, Tweek, I did this for_ you _because I thought_ you _liked this sort of thing,” Craig’s tone slowly went from annoyed to livid, “I’ve tried to do everything I can for you, and now_ you’re _the one not happy?”_

 

Craig recalled Tweek flinching. Remembering it now made Craig feel shame all over again.

 

 _“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is...I want to make you happy._ _You know I’d do anything for you.”_ Here, he recalled, he was resorting to pathetic begging.

 

 _“I’m sorry, Craig,” Tweek had said, “I didn’t mean to ruin this. We can still have fun_ tonight _, okay? I did say_ after _tonig--”_ That was the final straw for Craig.

 

 _“You just 'let's break up' and then turn around and say ‘but let’s still have fun’?!"_ That wasn't all he said, but he really didn't want to think about the rest of the argument. From there, it only escalated.

 

Still, Craig couldn't help but replay it over and over in his head. Was he too quick to give up and shut down on Tweek? Should he have resorted to more pathetic begging? Should he have pressured Tweek to tell him what’s wrong so he could fix it? Should he have told Tweek how much he loved him?

 

_“I just don’t think you’re good enough for me.”_

 

Maybe it was karma ten years late for what he did to Esther. And Annie. And Lola. What he said to Esther was the worst though. Maybe he was some asshole who deserved it.

 

Two days after the prom, Clyde seemed to disagree with this sentiment. He didn’t really want to talk about what went down with anyone, but multiple people at the prom heard Craig yell at Tweek. They saw him storm out, arguing with the chaperones that tried to prevent him from leaving. They all saw the sobbing Tweek left behind. 

 

Well, Clyde didn’t, naturally, as he had already snuck out and up to his hotel room shortly after the prom started, probably already blackout drunk at that point. Though of course, he still heard through grapevine (after he finally overcame his hangover) that _something_ was up. Clyde being Clyde, he would never shut up until he got a direct explanation. So Craig gave him one the following day at City Wok.

 

_“Tweek broke up an eight year relationship on prom night?!” Clyde choked on his food._

 

 _“I_   _really fucking_ _don’t want to talk about it, but yes.”_

 

_“Dude, that’s stone cold," Clyde said with a wide-eyed expression. "Did you do something?”_

 

_“That’s the thing dude!” Craig slammed down his chopsticks, “I didn’t do anything! Sure I can be an asshole sometimes, but I did everything right, the cheesy invitation, matching suits, I even spent my own goddamn allowance money on a hotel room! And fuck, even beyond the prom he seemed perfectly content with whatever the fuck I did for him leading up to it. He’s been really clingy and and sappy and I really thought everything was going great but now--” His voiced cracked._

 

 _“Wow," Clyde said with his mouth full of chicken, "Tweek sounds like a huge dick. Everyone always knew he was a huge weirdo, but I always thought you kind of balanced him out and that you two made it work. Like, weird or not, he always seemed_ nice. _Guess people were right.”_

 

_“What do you mean?”_

 

 _“I mean you’re_ way _too good for him. He was ridiculously lucky to have you, but if he really is going to be a huge asshole and throw that all away then fuck him. You really_ can _do better, dude.”_

 

Craig didn’t really take any of this _too_ seriously. After Tweek, Clyde was probably his best friend. They even both agreed to go to the University of Colorado together so they could stay close. Sure, afterwards, he found out that the only reason Clyde pushed for CSU was because his girlfriend Bebe got accepted there, which he was of course really pissed about. But he eventually got over it. He figured it still meant something that Clyde wanted to make sure the two of them went to the same university together, regardless if his girlfriend was more important to him. It still meant something. It still made their relationship the type where Clyde would play the whole “Well fuck that guy, you deserve better!” card to him.

 

But one part did hit home with him, dwelling back on it. Maybe Tweek’s breakup really _wasn’t_ his fault. Maybe Tweek really _is_ just a manipulative asshole who used him all along and then decided to throw him out.

 

Still, all those years of being together? All those years of the two of them kissing each other, holding hands, calling each other pet names and more than anything, confiding in one another like neither of them ever would to another person?

 

How could it mean nothing to him? How could Tweek show so many signs of loving him and then on prom night turn around and break his heart and never speak to him again?

 

Craig knew immediately after thinking that that he was lying to himself. Truth be told, the morning after prom, Craig did Text Tweek and got a response.

 

_9:23 am Hey babe. I’m sorry about storming out last night._

 

_9:30 am I know neither of us meant what we said, so I just_

_want to move past it and pretend like it never happened_

_okay? How about I take you somewhere and we can forget_

_all about it?_

 

_9:33 am I did mean it. Sorry._

 

And also if Craig was going to be honest with himself, _he_ was kind of the one who blocked Tweek’s phone number and every single form of social media he had. Craig _was_  technically the one who refused to so much as look at Tweek any time they passed each other in the halls.

 

But it’s not like Tweek made an effort to catch up to him. As was said, they had other fights and break ups before, but not since fourth grade had they ever completely cut themselves off from one another _this_ hard, and never for this long. And never did the breakup happen as bluntly or on a night as societally determined important as senior prom.

 

Tweek didn’t even play a “I hope we can still be friends” card.

 

Yeah, Clyde was probably right. Fuck that guy.

 

Or so he tried to tell himself.

 

* * *

 

“Craig!!” a voice scolded him in a harsh whisper. It was Red Tucker, his cousin, sitting right next to him. “Craig, don’t doze off, we’re about to get up.”

 

Oh, that’s right, he was at Grad Practice. A full month and a half after prom. He was so lost in thought, he nearly forgot where he was.

 

Something that had been happening a lot lately.

 

“I wasn’t dozing off.”

 

“Just shut up and pay attention, you’ll get us in trouble,” she scolded him again in an even quieter yet more annoyed whisper.

 

“Even if I _was_ can you blame me? This shit is insufferable,” he replied in a soft tone, but still probably louder than he should have been.

 

She refused to answer, and instead got up with the rest of their alphabetically determined row to go wait in line and practice how to receive their diploma covers. He was too busy talking to notice the teacher who signaled them to rise up. He shot up a second late, getting a disapproving glare from the teacher.

 

Whatever. He thought the fact that graduation ceremonies don’t give you your actual diploma completely rendered the whole thing pointless, anyway. Red sighed out of secondhand embarrassment.

 

Luckily for him, though, this was the last round of practice and “T”s were relatively low in the alphabet that this shitty practice ended very soon after. He did get briefly scolded by the teacher, but he didn't really care. It wasn’t like they were going to ban him or anything. He worked his ass off and ended up getting a 3.4 GPA, by all accounts he deserved to be at this pointless ceremony. Sure, he might have barely missed being Cumlaude by 0.1 point, but given the high dropout rate and small class size of South Park High, they would want another warm body with good academic achievements at their pointless ceremony. So he was a valuable asset and she could go fuck herself.

 

Really though, he just wanted to be out of this shitty high school and hellhole of a town already. Sure, for a long time he hoped to escape it with Tweek in tow.

 

_“People here always treat me like I’m fucked up and I hate it!” Tweek sobbed to Craig, “It's like...It doesn’t matter what I do, people here already think what they think and I'm helpless to it."_

 

_“Babe, you’re too hard on yourself.” Craig pulled  his boyfriend into a tight hug, letting him sob into his chest. “But you’re right, this town is a hellhole full of assholes. But even that’s alright, because in three years we’ll be out of here. Okay?”_

 

_Tweek sighed softly, gripping tightly back. “Okay, Crai--”_

 

“No!” Craig whispered under his breath. Luckily no one heard him due to leaving a few minutes later than everyone else. He dug his fingernails into his palms and made his way out of this cursed school. He mustn't let himself think about Tweek. Now that he figured the two of them were done forever, he wanted more than ever to be miles and miles away from everyone. But the fact that the mere concept of him leaving reminded him of Tweek felt like a knife in his gut all over again.

 

 

Right now, he just wanted to go home and sleep it off. But first.

 

“Hey, Esther,” Craig called out the second he saw her waiting in the school driveway with Red and Kevin. The Stoleys, usually with Red in tow, usually waited in the same spot for their father to pick them up given that none of them had a car, so it was easy enough for him to find her.

 

And in general, he Esther quite a lot. Even after graduation, he’d probably see her a lot more. He really didn’t _need_ to do this _right now._ She was the twin sister to Kevin Stoley who was in turn dating his cousin Red, all three planning to go to Seattle for school. Kevin said after they all three got accepted that Tweek and him should go up there to visit them, especially given that Tweek loved coffee and all.

 

He didn’t really care about Kevin that much. They had a similar interest in scifi which they could hold a conversation about, but he always felt that Kevin was in a lot deeper than him. He also found Red pretty annoying. But, yeah, he would have gone to Seattle if Tweek really wanted to.

 

He was letting himself get mentally off track again.

 

“I thought you said you didn't feel well and wanted to go home,” Red curtly responded instead of Esther. 

 

"Dude, Red, you're really going to need to learn how to chill the fuck out. I just wanted to speak to Esther over there for like two seconds.”

 

“Then what is it, Craig?” Esther asked with a very neutral yet naturally sweet tone. Esther really was a nice girl. Always with lightly curled hair she did herself and soft pastel clothing, she was very sweet and feminine like some Disney Princess. In hindsight, it was no wonder 8 year old gay Craig was so uninterested in her. Red rolled her eyes, but Esther followed him. Wandering about ten feet away from Red and an oblivious mobile game playing Kevin, it dawned on Craig that he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Or why he was doing it. 

 

_“I just don’t think you’re good enough for me."_

 

He decided that  _Tweek_  was the one that was the asshole, didn't he? What did he have this weird urge to clear out the negative karma?

 

_“I think after tonight we should break up.”_

 

He then realized that he allowed there to be an awkward silence.

 

“So, Craig...What did you want to tell me?”

 

More awkward silence.

 

“You remember when we were in third grade, right?” Craig finally let out.

 

“Um. Yes?” she responded.

 

Craig was losing her fast. She was just too polite to say it. "Well, since we're going to graduate soon, uh, I’m sorry for being a huge dick and breaking up with you the way I did. It...wasn’t cool of me.”

 

Esther stared at him with a confused expression before answering a few seconds later. “Craig, why are you apologizing for that again? I thought we had been over it countless times. That was when we were _eight_ , which was _ten years ago_. Sure, I might have been sad at the time, but I don’t get why you’d think I’d still care _now._ ”

 

Yeah, he did bring it up casually back in sophomore year when she was around. More on account of Kevin and Red becoming an item and not wanting awkwardness or long standing grudges than really thinking about how mean it was. But now he had a personal investment in it.

 

Though of course, pointing out that he didn’t mean it two years ago would only make himself sound like a bigger asshole.

 

His sister Tricia always told him that he was absolutely terrible at communication and dealing with emotion--be it his own or other people’s. She was always like most little sisters, he knew she’d say anything to be a little shit, but he also knew she wasn’t completely off base. Maybe _that’s_ why Tweek broke up with him.

 

He didn’t even realize until after the fact that he audibly sighed, defeated.

 

And yet, it made Esther’s eyes grow big. “Wait a second, you’re saying this because Tweek broke up with you, aren’t you?” she gasped.

 

Craig's inability to respond answered her question. He hoped it wouldn't happen, but he didn't rule out the idea that she would jump to that conclusion.

 

“Craig Tucker," she merely laughed, "I like you. Really, I do. But you’re the densest person I have ever met.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the previous chapter, I'm writing this story in a sort of different style than I usually write. I'm a little torn if I find it too messy or lacking, so feedback is appreciated. Comments in general are very greatly appreciated!!!
> 
> Also thank you to everyone who has already left kudos/subscribed/etc! It means a lot to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graduation is sure a thing that happens.

It was the day of Craig Tucker’s graduation, but honestly, it didn’t make him feel anything but numb.

 

His mother helped him zip up his ugly green graduation gown and adjust his cap straight, merticulously putting some of her bobby pins into his black hair to make sure it wouldn’t move an inch. They felt cold and awkward against his head, but he wasn’t about to protest.

 

His mother looked at him, all dressed and ready for graduaion. She smiled, and then let tears fall from her eyes.

 

“What are you going to do without me to help you?” she laugh-sobbed at him. She wasn’t an overly emotional or touchy mother, but she hugged him tightly.

 

He did wonder about how he was going to be able to make it on his own in college. He often took his family for granted, but he really did rely on them more than he’d like to admit.

 

He couldn’t help but give an uncharacteristically grateful smile back at her.

 

“I hope you’re not gonna be like that at _my_ graduation,” Tricia rolled her eyes. She was sitting on the arm of the sofa, paying more attention to her phone than she was this whole graduation thing. To be fair, if their ages were reversed and Tricia was the one graduating, he’d probably be the same way.

 

They waited in their living room for their father to come home for work, followed by Uncle Skeeter and Red. For reasons that didn’t make sense to Craig, his family decided that it was necessary for the two of them to have pictures all together in their living room.

 

Craig thought that was stupid.

 

His father argued back that it was a big deal for Uncle Skeeter because he himself only got a GED. Red was pretty, popular, and smart enough to go to an out of state university on scholarsip. The last type of girl one would expect to come from Skeeter.

 

Uncle Skeeter really was historically a very backwards, redneck sort of guy. He tended to be the type of guy beer drinking, gun-toting Republican that used to make up the majority of South Park back in the day. Craig didn’t really see himself as “political” but he did think his uncle’s attitude towards immigrants and minorities was off-putting. Apparently at one point early on he even got into a scuff with Red over Kevin for being Chinese.

 

But he had gotten better. Some anger management classes, some widening of his worldview. He took control of the local bar and made a decent income for Red and himself, no longer asking his brother for money all the damn time. As the times changed, so did Skeeter.

 

And despite everything, Red always had been wrapped around his little finger.

 

Still, Craig protested that the school itself would be better for pictures than their drab living room. The protest went unheard.

 

Also knowing his family, they would insist on taking pictures and talking until they were late. Which they did.

 

A million pictures of him and Red, then including Tricia, Red and Uncle Skeeter, Craig and his parents, and every other combination possible. Red laughed along, but honestly in the end it took her reeling the rest of the family in to get them to finally leave.

 

She was a lot more personable and charming than Craig or Tricia. Parents actually listened to her.

 

* * *

 

 

As Craig predicted, they were very much late. As in, Craig and Red were able to get in line only a minute or so before they were to march out onto the field, when they were supposed to be there half an hour early. They made it though, running to the gymnasium so fast to the and so determined that Craig didn’t even realize until after the fact that he ran into Tweek, alphabetically placed a few people behind him.

 

He knew Tweek was graduating high school, but he wasn’t sure until now if he was going to the actual commencement ceremony. He hadn’t been at practice, which was mandatory, but he had heard through the grapevine he had a medical excuse.

 

Tweek often missed a lot of school due to his health. Tweek didn’t like to say the specifics in terms of diagnosis, even to Craig, but it was common knowledge to everyone. There was a time where Tweek was at risk of not graduating because of it. Tweek and him had spent all night in each other’s houses studying to help Tweek make up work and study for tests.

 

Craig had been so proud of him when he passed.

 

Now, however, he was sandwiched between Sally Turner and Red, due to the boy-girl order their line was in. Sally spoke around Craig to Red, as if he didn’t exist, to ask why they she was late. Red just laughed it off the charming way that lets Red gets away with anything. Beyond them, he could hear other familiar voices in the background. He could easily distinguish Kenny and Stan talking, Clyde saying something loudly to someone he couldn’t see, and some of the girls sobbing.

 

The teachers hushed them, first ignored, then louder until everyone became silent. In the background he could hear the school band start to play the graduation song, signaling their entrance.

 

It hit him that this was going to be the last time he’d be with a lot of these kids.

 

To be honest, he hated South Park. As he walked out, at first all he could think about was how he hated this small backwoods mountain town. He hated how perpetually cold it was. He hated that it was so small that everyone knew everything about everyone as if it were their business. He hated that he had to put up with the same annoying kids since kindergarten. He hated Eric Cartman and how he had every -ism in the book. Even though Cartman got expelled, he still managed to always stay around like a pest no one could get rid of. He hated Kyle Broflovski’s know it all attitude. He hated Perfect Stan Marsh Football Star and his Perfect Girlfriend Wendy Marsh, Class President, Prom Queen, and Valedictorian. He hated how they were the one South Park High couple that ran longer than him and Tweek.

 

He hated how cruel this town was to Tweek.

 

No matter how much Tweek broke his heart, he couldn’t help feel his heart plunge when he thought about it.

 

But still. These were all kids he had known since they were in diapers. Many of them were now as adults, about to leave all they’ve ever known behind.

 

His own family screamed his and Red’s name as he became visable from the sands to the audience. Some of their extended family, including his tiny old grandma, had arrived early saving the rest of them seats.

 

Craig still felt numb. After what felt like forever, he finally reached his seat on the field.

 

His seat was one off than it had been in practice due to Tweek’s attendance. Tweek was in spitting distance, but the last thing he wanted to do was look at him, to _think_ about him right now. Craig decided that the best thing he could do would be to ignore this whole thing and read the Commencement Program left on everyone’s seats. The program featured all of the students’ names as well as where they self-reported where intended to go to school. The first five names featured the five Valedictorians. Token Black, Kyle Broflovski, Heidi Turner, Wendy Testaburger, and some other girl he didn’t know well enough.

 

Craig thought having five Valedictorians defeated the purpose. Apparently nowadays anyone with a 4.0 got the honor of being crowned one. Fortunately for Craig, only the one with the highest overall GPA had the honor of giving a speech. Unforunately for Craig, it was Kyle Broflovski with his obnoxious Harvard scholarships, followed by Wendy Testaburger, speaking as Class President and her obnoxious Georgetown scholarships.

 

He was also bummed it wasn’t Token, given that he was his friend and all.

 

_“I’m not ‘dense’ am I?” Craig had asked Token at his Valedictorian celebratory dinner. It was at some over priced, fancy restaurant in Denver that his family would never be able to afford in a million years, but naturally Token’s family could afford to rent the whole place out. He was constantly surrounded by all his friends and extended family and honestly, he felt sort of bad to be asking him a selfish question lik this right off the bat when he finally go alone time with him, but he just couldn’t shake what Esther had said to him._

 

_“That’s kind of a weird question to come from you of all people,” Token answered in a very neutral, Token-esque way._

 

_“Come on dude, help me out!”_

 

_“Well, okay then,” Token pondered for a moment, “I’d say your denseness levels don’t hold a candle to Clyde’s, so there’s that. You’re pretty stubborn and aloof towards most people, which might make you seem dense to some.” He paused for another moment, thinking heavily about the question. “You did kinda seem dense in regards to Tweek sometimes, though.”_

 

Craig subconciously started to bunch up the sides of the program. This wasn’t how he was supposed to be distracting himself.

 

He decided to search for Stan Marsh’s name to see where he was going to college. UC Boulder. Craig felt schaedenfraude knowing that Stan was being separaed from his best friend and girlfriend.

 

Part of Craig knew it wasn’t fair. Stan had never been particularly terrible to him, they mainly just ignored each other’s exisence. As much as he bulit Stan up to be some “perfect jock”, he really wasn’t. Sure, his girlfriend was seemingly perfect, but Stan always seemed like the type who always wanted to be somewhere else, always looked like something was bothering him.

 

The month or so after Craig and Tweek broke up, deep down he realized it was jealousy. Stan seemed to have everything together, being so beloved by all, but always looking unhappy. No one ever left backhanded complements about their relationship. That wasn’t Cartman, anyway. Craig sighed, knowing where his train of thought was headed.

 

People loved Craig and Tweek together. People always said how good they were, and how shocked they were when Craig said it was over forever. But a lot of people _were_ wary of Tweek. Tweek didn’t like to give details, but he did know that people at school weren’t exactly friendly to him. He’d always known that. It wasn’t until after they broke up that a lot of people he considered friends came forward, saying shockingly mean things about him.

 

This was definitely a topic he didn’t want to allow himself to think about during his high school graduation.

 

“And now,” said the Principal, graciously interrupting Craig’s thoughts, “We are having a speech from a very special sudent who has shown tremendous growth. A student who came to me, saying he planned on dropping out to work and support his family, to now sitting here on this evening with a scholarship to Red Rocks Community College. A student who went from missing nearly a full month of school to perfect attendence this last semester. A student who is the first in his entire family to graduate high school.”

 

Craig raised an eyebrow.

 

“Kenny McCormick!”

 

Craig knew from Kenny himself bragging as well as practice that he was given this honor. Hell, after this he was going to Kenny’s graduation party. He tolerated Kenny’s existance and recognized that he really was a big comeback story, junior year claiming his family was too broke and that he was going to drop out and get a job in hopes to raise enough to send his little sister to college.

 

A lot of it was Perfect Genius Kyle helping him study. Kyle’s mother, hearing about it, set up a community-wide event to help raise money for Kenny’s family and put up a college fund for him and his sister. When it was clear Kenny was going to graduate, the whole town cheered for him. When it came back that he was accepted to community college, despite it being automatic admitance, the town acted like he just got accepted to Harvard.

 

Unlike Stan, Kyle, or Wendy, Craig was happy for Kenny.

 

But he only wished people gave the same level of support to Tweek.

 

 _Tweek Tweak._ _College: Undecided_

 

Everyone was laughing to whatever Kenny was saying, but like all the other speeches, Craig couldn’t be bothered to pay attention.

 

Craig took a deep breath and allowed himself to lean over and look direcly at Tweek, several chairs away, for the first time that evening.

 

Tweek also wasn’t paying attention., but instead twirling his fingers together, picking at a hangnail. He looked like he hadn’t slept in several days, not that that was an odd look for him. But above his dark circles were his stunningly blue eyes.

 

It took Craig a moment to realize that Tweek detected his stare from the corner of his eye, and the two were looking directly at each other. Craig snapped back, his face instantly feeling hot.

 

Maybe he wasn’t as mad at Tweek as he thought he was.

 

“We’re about to go, don’t fuck up this unison this time, kay?” Red whispered, nudging him to look forward at the teacher.

 

Craig really did have a bad habit of becoming completely unaware of his surroundings due to getting lost in his own thoughts. He had absolutely no sense of how much time had passed nor that most of the students already had their diploma covers handed to them.

 

As his teacher signaled, he leaned forward and then stood, following the line to the podium.

 

He knew it was just a diploma cover he was receiving. It didn’t matter. This was just some traditional formality to feel good.

 

Still, he suddenly found himself feeling numb in a whole new way.

 

“Rebecca Tucker.” Red took the diploma cover from the principal and gave her winning smile to he principal, and he followed directly behind her.

 

“Craig Tucker.”

 

He took the diploma cover, smiled the best he could for the photo, and walked down.

 

“Sally Turner.”

 

When he was younger he often wondered if he should flip the audience off.

 

“Tommy Turner.”

 

He always thought about a lot of things he could do during his graduation that he now wasn’t.

“Jessica Twain.”

 

But now it was all over.

 

“Tweek Tweak.”

 

He still felt numb.

 

* * *

 

Craig knew he shouldn’t throw his damn hat at the end of the ceremony. He knew if he did he might never see it again, and dammit this shit cost him some big money. For such a low quality piece of shit his graduation outfit was, it was ridiculously overpriced.

 

But no.

 

Like an idiot, he instinctively threw it like the rest of his class. And not just a foot up like he figured he might where he could catch it, but way up in the air, blown away by the evening wind from his reach.

 

A lot of people got their hat back or didn’t really care to get it back, and were instead busy trying to make it to their parents, making it harder for Craig to retrieve his. Or any, for that matter. The hats all look the same, anyway. Especially considering the dark green color in the grass dimly lit by the bright floodlights at the edges of the field. He also wasn’t sure if it was worth getting potentially trampled on. Plus, Red was already long gone and probably with their family, which probably  _also_ meant they were waiting for him impatiently.

 

He closed his eyes and sighed, ready to admit defeat.

 

“Craig.”

 

His eyes shot open hearing this familiar voice. He didn’t need to look to see who it was coming from.

 

“Craig,” Tweek repeated. His eyes were big, with a bit of apprehension.

 

Craig paused for a moment. Hesitantly, he turned and allowed himself to look Tweek into the face for the second time tonight.

 

“What do you want?” Craig responded flatly. He naturally had a flat voice, but it came out harsher than he intended.

 

Tweek knew the subtleties enough in Craig’s voice to recognize the irritation, leading his own face to scrunch up into a stubborn and irritated expression that likewise, Craig knew all too well. Tweek huffed lightly, and walked passed him, pushing on his way passed something into Craig that hard felt and pointy. He let go before Craig had time to catch it, dropping lightly to the ground.

 

Craig reached down to pick it up.

 

It was his graduation cap. It must have landed near Tweek.

 

He considered saying something back to Tweek, but he was already lost in the crowd.

 

“CRA~IG!” a voice called, breaking his train of thought. This voice was also very familiar, but far more shrill and female.

 

It was Tricia, who ran through the crowd to try and find him. Not very enthusiastically, but instead out of a mild irritation of having to wait for him to catch up with the rest of their family.

 

“Why did Tweek look so pissed off?” she asked him as soon as he left the chairs and caught up to her. She seemed more interested in her phone she was scrolling on than an answer.

 

“How should I know?”

 

“I saw him try to stop and talk to you and then stomp away all pissed off,” she said looking at her phone, grabbing his sleeve to pull him along to wherever their family was waiting for them, “So clearly you fucked up again.”

 

“Thanks for congratulating me on my graduation,” Craig rolled his eyes, allowing himself to be pulled along, “You’re the _best_ sister.”

 

“I know this and you’re welcome.”

 

 _Shithead,_ Craig thought. The two of them didn’t say another word as she forcefully navigated them through the stuffy crowd to their family. They were easily spottable by their taller than average height and Red’s unnaturally bright hair.

 

“Congrats kiddo!” Craig’s father smacked him on the back before he himself noticed him.

 

His mother and grandmother both hugged him and spout praises, kissing his face more than he was comfortable with. His Uncle Skeeter ruffled his hair from behind as well. Several other aunts and uncles were also there, wanting to hug and congratulate him. Worst of all, most of them were from his mother’s side of the family, meaning they didn’t know Red and he had the unfortunate monopoly on their attention.

 

He didn’t really like this much attention.

 

The Stoleys were also nearby, Mrs. Stoley taking her twin children’s pictures, then adding in Red. She pulled out her phone and took selfies with Kevin. She took one where she kissed him on the cheek, his arms and her free arm wrapped around each other. It made his heart sink out of jealousy. That should have been him and Tweek. As if his mother were psychic, at that very moment she decided to do the worst possible thing she could do that night.

 

“TWEEK!!!” his mother yelled, waving her long arms up, “TWEEK HONEY, COME HERE!”

 

About 20 feet away, sure enough Tweek and his parents were there. Tweek was coldly standing several feet away from them, looking as though they were already about to leave the school campus. Tweek’s eyes grew wide with fear, but he politely nodded and waived.

 

“Now, now, Tweek,” his ever-robotic sounding father, nudged with his shoulder towards the Tuckers, “Be polite and go say hi to the Tuckers, won’t you?” Tweek’s arms nervously became crossed. Craig’s own mother couldn’t read the mood, and simply grabbed Craig’s arm and dragged him over to his own ex-boyfriend.

 

“Now, I know you two have been fighting lately, but you’ve been friends for so long that we _can’t_ go without having a picture between you too, alright?”

 

“Alright,” Tweek tried to force an uncomfortable smile. The two awkwardly stood next to each other, careful to leave several inches of space between them. After it was over, Craig looked up at Tweek. It was the third time that night they made eye contact. Both of them were clearly unsure what to say this time.

 

“Come along now, Tweek,” his father called, “We want to get back as soon as possible to reopen the shop in case any grads want to stop by.”

 

“O-Okay,” Tweek replied, still looking at Craig. He opened his mouth again as if he wanted to say something, but then simply broke the contact and ran along, trailing behind his mother and father.

 

 _Will this be the last time I ever see Tweek?_ Craig wondered. He couldn’t help it. Tears ran down his face as he watched Tweek walk away. His legs started to move on his own, starting in a brisk walk and quickly turning into a run.

 

“Tweek, wait up!” His ex-boyfriend paused and turned, around. Surprised, but by no means anything but confused. The fourth time they made eye contact.

 

“Dad, sorry, but could I please talk to Craig for a minute?” Tweek asked his father plainly.

 

“Sure, son, you know how to get home.”

 

Tweek nodded, but didn’t break eye contact with Craig. The two stood in silence until the crowd dissipated around them, and thankfully Craig’s own family, knowing that he was spending the evening with Kenny, knew not to approach them and insead sent texts Craig could feel the vibrations of in his pocket.

 

“You’re crying,” Tweek noted, breaking the silence. Craig gasped, instinctively reaching his hand to wipe the tears that had rolled down his face. Thankfully it was only loose tears, no full on sobbing.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me why?” Craig answered.

 

“That’s fresh, coming from the person who blocked me on everything and wouldn’t so much as _look at me_ until tonight,” Tweek’s eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Well, _dude,_ you kind of broke my heart on prom night,” Craig’s hands balled into fists and he instinctively took a step closer, “Of _course_ I was going to be fucking pissed at you. You have to see that that was kind of a huge dick move, dude.”

 

Tweek’s expression softened into something very unreadable. If he had to guess, it was as if he never considered how dickish his actions were before this moment. Craig took his lack of an answer as an answer in itself.

 

“Well, what did you think would happen? Do you think I have no fucking feelings? Did you think I would take ending a relationship I valued so much with a ‘Oh yeah, good idea!’ and then call it a day?” Craig could feel the anger build up in him. He didn’t like feeling like this. He was supposed to be calm and collected, in control of his emotions.

 

“Craig, I--”

 

“CRAIG, TWEEK WHAT’S UP” a voice yelled, jumping on Craig’s back from behind. It was Kenny. Of course. One of the few people who _wouldn’t_ have enough tact to sense the mood between the two of them.

 

“Dude, get the fuck off of me,” Craig swatted at him.

 

“I was actually looking all over for you,” Kenny laughed, jumping off, “You’re still coming to my party, right?”

 

“I _was_ but now you’re just pissing me off,” Craig groaned.

 

“Great, c’mon you can get a ride!” Kenny grabbed his arm, ready to pull him but then stopping for a minute to look at Tweek, “Are you sure you can’t come, Tweek? I’d love for you to, and we have an extra space for you.”

 

Kenny was one of few people in their class who always treated Tweek like a normal person. It was part of why Craig always tolerated him throughout the years.

 

“No, but thanks,” Tweek fake smiled at Kenny, “But my dad’ll be pissed if I’m not home soon.”

 

“On your graduation night? That sucks, dude,” Kenny practically gasped.

 

“Yeah, I know but…Well, anyway, see you around, Kenny,” Tweek  turned to leave towards the directions his parents had left, clearly wanting to use this excuse to get out, ending Craig's chance at a conversation with him. After taking a few steps, Tweek stopped and turned around once more, “And take care of yourself too, Craig.”

 

And with that,  he faded away into the black of night.

 

Craig was no longer sure if the feeling he felt could be classified as "numb".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we're done with that, and will be moving on next chapter! It was a pain in the ass to write, and I'm physically pained by trying to make the pacing come across alright.
> 
> I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update with all my irl stuff going on currently, but honestly this was the biggest drag of the story to write.
> 
> Please leave comments with your thoughts and kudos/bookmarks/etc if you enjoyed! Thank you everyone who already has!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of Tweek's firsts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So back to what I said about this story being a kind of experimental writing style for me! This chapter is sure a big part of that.
> 
> Also before I get into Tweek I know there's a lot of discussion in fandom about properly dealing with Tweek's abuse and drug addiction. For the record, not that I think it really matters, I am someone who had a very mentally abusive/manipulative upbringing that led to me to have a drug problem for a while. Sooooo while that won't speak for my writing ability nor am I at all basing anything off myself, I just want to put that out there for those potentially....concerned or worried about my motivations. I never got into meth though, (thankfully).

Tweek Tweak was five years old when he had his first cup of coffee.

 

“You’re a kindergartner now, son,” his father had told him on the crisp August morning that was to be his first day of school. “You should act as a figurehead for our company, afterall. You need to be an ambassador and show everyone how great our home-fresh coffee is.”

 

Tweek thought it was really bitter and it burned his tongue. He immediately spit the first sip back into the cup.

 

His father clicked his tongue in disapproval. Tweek knew he was disappointed in him. He felt the disappointment cover him like a cloak. A cloak he wished he could rip off, but never could.

 

“Now, don’t disrespect the coffee, son. We happen to use the finest local ingredients South Park has to offer. We have a responsibility to his town to provide everyone their first cup of coffee every morning to help them go about their day,” his father told him in his ever calm and collected voice. He didn’t  _ sound _ angry. But then, he never did.

 

“But it’s so bitter!” Tweek whined back at his father.

 

His father got down on one knee, eye level with his son.

 

“Son, do you know why we called you ‘Tweek Tweak’?”

 

“B-Because of the family business?”   
  


“That’s right, son,” he put his hand on Tweek’s shoulder, “Our business is the most important  thing to our family. And one day, we expect you to live up to your namesake and see keeping up our great family tradition. Your mother and I are counting on you, and how can we count on you if you don’t appreciate the family business?

 

“But Daddy, that sounds so hard! How can I do that?” Tweek wailed. He just wanted to go to school.

 

“Well, son, if you don’t want to be a disappointment to your mother and I, you should first learn to appreciate our merchandise.”

 

Tweek nodded, the wetness of tears clouding his vision. He took a big sip of his coffee, forcing himself to swallow.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Tweek was eight when his father told him their business was at risk of being closed.

 

According to his father, if their business went under, he would send Tweek into slavery. Whether or not he was serious, young Tweek took it very seriously.

 

A new competitor coffee shop from a major corporation had recently moved in. They  _ were _ objectively better, his father admitted.

 

Publicly, anyway.

 

At eight, coffee was a major part of Tweek’s life for nearly half his life. His parents gave it to him like water. They even put it in his thermostat to be sent to school with him for his first several years, until his second grade teacher found out and had him sent to the principal. 

 

He didn’t understand the issue, but after that he never brought coffee to school again. 

 

Still, it was part of his everyday life. It wasn’t that he  _ loved _ the taste of coffee as much as it was something he took for granted, like water. 

 

Coffee, according to his parents, also helped him function. He often got in trouble in school for not being able to sit still or pay attention. He had trouble sleeping, which often led to hightening his paranoia,leading him to have outbursts at inappropriate times. His parents argued against having him sent to a doctor, despite teacher’s requests, arguing that it was just their son’s inherent nature. After intense pressure by the school, however, they took him to different doctors, eventually deciding that he had ADD.

 

They also tried to have him medicated, but his parents refused.

 

_ “Coffee is all you need, son,” his father had told him, “Our coffee is the one thing you can count on to help you function like an upstanding member of society.” _

 

_ “Oh god! But what if the doctor is right and if I don’t take it, I’ll DIE?” Tweek shrieked, tears welling up in his eyes. _

 

_ “You see, son, doctors are paid off by big pharmaceutical companies. They only want you to take what will give them money, despite how their products will do nothing turn your brain into slime.” _

 

_ “SLIME? Oh god!” _

 

_ “Yes son, slime,” his father continued in his ever-even tone, “But you see, your mother and I know the truth. We know that our coffee will help you with all of your problems. We’re the only ones that can help you from turning into an utter disaster.” _

 

For this reason, the concept of their coffee shop closing, cutting off the only thing that helped him, was a terrifying concept to the third grader. More than even the concept of his family running out of money and being forced to move away.

 

Tweek didn’t really have friends at school. Other kids only ever came over to his house or invited him to their own if they had a school project. At their age, they were often vocal to him about them being put off by his behavior. 

 

Tweek  _ wanted _ it to get better.

 

He was scared of people. He had been taught by his father to not trust anyone. He was taught that the world was a dangerous place.

 

If that were the case, Tweek wanted to be as tough as possible to be able to thrive and fit into this world.

 

Just...not yet. His fear of the world still trumped all else, leading him to try and play things safe. Risks were still too scary.

 

Scary, like his mother sitting at their kitchen table crying.

 

Tweek’s mother was similar to his father in that she always managed to be calm and maintained. However, she was often more warm and welcoming. She didn’t often seem concerned with Tweek’s problems, but she at the very least listened. Sometimes. She also took care of him in other ways, he figured. She was the one who would sometimes hug him, wash his clothes, cook his meals, occasionally even tuck him in at night.

 

In fact, there was a sort of diacotamy between his parents. His father would always point out his flaws, while his mother would act as though his flaws were nonexistent. Tweek wasn’t sure if this was her  _ ignoring _ his issues, or if it was her attempt at trying to make him feel like everyone else. Tweek himself had an internal conflict--should he be angry over her frivolous hand waving of his problems, or should he be thankful that she treated him like he was normal?

 

Seeing her cry, recognizing that a problem existed, was not normal. It made his stomach hurt.

 

“You have to see we’re all out of options,” his father, sitting at the opposite end of the table said to her. Calm and expressionless as ever.

 

“I don’t like this. It isn’t right. It’s not fair to Tweek,” she wiped away a tear with her apron.

 

“Well then, dear, perhaps you shouldn’t have been so persistent at stopping my previous lobbying to protect our small business from the evil corporate empire. That option was a lot better for Tweek, now wasn’t it?”

 

Tweek’s heart pounded. What wasn’t fair to him? Slavery? Is that what they were talking about? He felt panic rise up in him and clutched his arms, digging his nails into them hard enough to break skin.

 

“Oh hello there, son,” his father turned to face his son in the doorway.

 

He didn’t realize that he had audibly shrieked, alerting them to his presence.

 

“Oh Tweek, dear, this is an adult conversation,” his mother tried to smile at him after the surprise of his presence wore off, “Run along now and play. Pay this no mind.”

 

“No, dear, this concerns Tweek and I think it’s important that he hears it,” his father got up from his seat and pulled up a chair, signaling for Tweek sit down between them. Still shaking and tears clouding his vision, he did. His parents said nothing more, allowing an awkward silence.

 

“Are you going to sell me into slavery?” he finally wailed. The tears now spilled down his face, and he let his head plant into the table.

 

“Of  _ course  _ not, Tweek,” his mother replied, sounding slightly taken aback, “You should  _ know  _ we wouldn’t let that happen.”

 

“Yes, son, you’re too valuable for us,” his father added, “But, we  _ are _ making changes to our company. Your mother here fears change too much, but we need it to help us move forward to protect our business.”

 

Tweek sat up, using his sleeve to wipe his face. “What kind of changes?”

 

“We decided that we’re going to partner with the local community and bring in new, fresh, and custom ingredients to help provide a more... _ unique _ coffee experience,” his father explained. He hesitated in the middle. Something that was quite unlike him.

 

“We’re changing our coffee?” Tweek was panicking again, “But what if it’s not as good? What if it won’t help me? What if--”

 

“Tweek, you will be drinking the same coffee you always have,” his mother cut him off, “This new coffee is for customers only. In fact, I  _ forbid  _ you from drinking it.”

 

Tweek didn’t understand, but the insistence of status quo was reassuring. That was enough for him.

 

“The only thing that matters to you, is that we need you to be the one to pick it up,” his father added.

 

“Me? Alone?! Why?”

 

“Well you see, we don’t want the secret location of our new secret ingredients to get out, because then everyone could emulate us. If your mother or I went, people would be quite suspicious. So I just had everything settled--all you need to do is go over to your classmate Kenny’s house so that way any onlookers will simply think that you’re a kid going to play with his friend.”

 

“That sounds like a lot of pressure!!! I don’t know if I can do that!”

 

His father didn’t pay any more attention to his concerns.

  
  


* * *

 

 

It was only a week later that Tweek was sent on this errand for the first time.

 

Kenny’s house was about a 20 minute walk from his house on the other side of the railroad tracks. It was considered the sketchier part of South Park, so Tweek wasn’t exactly calm and collected on his way over there. Despite only being four o’clock, due to the time of year, it was already getting dark. He was afraid of the dark. It was also deathly cold.

 

He was carrying a brown paper bag with a wad of cash inside and he was afraid of being mugged. Or maybe he would accidentally drop it. Or the wind would blow it away. He hugged it tightly to his chest, like it was the most valuable thing in the world to him. 

 

His panic nearly got the best of him multiple times on his way there, but he forced himself to persist until he could see Kenny’s house in the distance.

 

Kenny’s house was the smallest and most run down in South Park. It was a one-story building that had broken windows patched by duck tape. The exterior was crumbling, looking as though it hadn’t been painted in decades and even had some visible holes existing in the separate garage.

 

It was like a haunted house. And Tweek was terrified of haunted houses.

 

Still, he reminded himself of his end-goal of becoming a stronger individual. Perhaps running this important errand would make him the savior of his family and boost his confidence.

 

“I can do this,” he told himself quietly, walking up to the door and knocking twice.

 

To his relief, Kenny was the one who opened the door. He was already in his pajamas, which were filthy and clearly several sizes too big for him. Probably hand-me-downs, Tweek figured.

 

Tweek hadn’t spoken to Kenny much in the past, and didn’t know him too well. Not that it said much, given how little he’s generally spoken to most of his classmates. Still, there was always something about Kenny that Tweek could relate to.

 

Sure the obvious. They were both blond with shaggy hair, though Kenny’s more golden than Tweek’s pale yellow. They were both considerably thin for their age. They both always seemed to be scratched up, albeit Kenny more so due to his own risky behavior. Kenny also seemed so very mature and strong for his age.

 

Maybe, he thought, Kenny was actually the exact inverse of himself.

 

“Hey dude,” Kenny greeted him. He sounded friendly, but there was a twinge of pity in his voice. “My mom said you were coming over and to help you out. Just a second, okay?” Kenny abruptly shut the door in his face, not inviting him in.

 

To be fair, Tweek feared that actually stepping into Kenny’s filthy house would give him some terminal disease.

 

After about a minute, Kenny opened the door again, this time wearing the orange parka he always did. He was also holding a sizable key.

 

“This way,” Kenny said emotionlessly, signaling Tweek to follow him as he walked out of the house and down the porch. 

 

“Wh-Where are we going?” Tweek asked as he followed him.

 

“Just right here,” Kenny responded, nodding to his head towards the garage. They stopped in front of the closed garage door, which looked as though it could crumble at any moment due to the severe decay of the panels. Kenny bent down and put the key into the lock and lifted up the shabby garage door.

 

“Hey, the kid we told you about is here,” Kenny called out to the people inside with a slightly resentful tone as soon as he opened the door. He stayed at the entryway, not wanting to walk inside.

 

The garage was not at all what Tweek expected. It looked less like a garage and more like a makeshift science lab. Only the “lab” itself was in a worn out shack and the “scientists” were replaced by what looked like four filthy homeless people.

 

“Why should we trust this kid?” one of them, a middle-aged looking man with matted long brown hair, asked.

 

“He’s not a cop, dumbass, he’s eight,” Kenny rolled his eyes, “He’s my classmate.”

 

“I’ll be the judge of who I can trust,” the man spat back, walking over to Tweek. He reached out and roughly grabbed his face, examining it. His hands were grimey and it made Tweek shiver in fear.

 

“Hey, you don’t get to touch him,” Kenny kicked him in the shin. The man instantly let go, but instead looked like he was about to throw a punch at Kenny. Tweek yelped.

 

“Doug, ya psychotic jackass, you wan’ us to lose another gig?” another one of the “scientists” called out. It was the lone woman this time, a lady who looked about 60 with equally matted blonde hair and skin that seem to be unnaturally loose on her filthy body.

 

“Yeah Doug, don’t think we won’t kick you out,” another added with a grough voice.

 

“Whatever,” Doug relented, “But where’s the money?”

 

Tweek quickly handed over the brown paper bag. Doug roughly snatched it from him and opened it, examining each and every bill as if they were diamonds. After he examined everything, he tossed it to the lady and walked over to the weird lab tables, which were cluttered with things Tweek didn’t recognize. Doug opened a drawer and shuffled through it, eventually picking put a brown paper bag, very similar to the one Tweek handed over. As soon as he picked it up and double checked the contents, he threw it at Tweek. Hard.

 

Tweek’s reflexes were too slow, and it hit him and fell to the ground. One of the men laughed.

 

Before he could take it, Kenny picked it up, and looked inside at the contents for a moment. He frowned, but then rolled it shut and handed it over to Tweek. “C’mon, let’s go,” he nudged Tweek’s shoulder and guided him out.

 

“I don’t get it,” Tweek whispered to Kenny as soon as Kenny locked the garage door back up, “Why are they...like  _ that _ ? What’s the ingredient?”

 

Kenny opened his mouth to answer but didn’t, as if he  _ couldn’t. _ The look of sympathy towards Tweek told him he probably didn’t want to know.

 

“Are they always like that?” Tweek tried asking another question.

 

“Yeah, kinda. Sometimes they’re worse. But now that they know you, you have nothing to worry about. You can just run in and out and then afterwards pretend like it never happened. That’s what I do.”

 

“I don’t get how you’re so tough, living next to that,” Tweek mumbled.

 

Kenny didn’t answer, leaving an air of silence as he walked Tweek to the edge of his property.

 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Kenny finally asked, “It’s freezing and getting dark fast.”

 

“Oh god, I don’t want to worry you! I-I can make it home on my own!” Tweek raised up his arms instinctively, nearly dropping the bag. Sure he  _ was  _ scared of walking home, but he also had a lot of social anxiety. The idea of Kenny walking home with him to then in turn walk back home alone was too much for Tweek to accept.

 

“Alright,” Kenny answered nonchalantly. He paused another momen and added, “But y’know. If you ever need to talk about, uh. Any of this. You can hit me up, okay?”

 

“Um...thanks?”

 

“No problem,” Kenny patted his shoulder as he turned around to his own house, “But Tweek, one more thing.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Make sure absolutely no one besides your parents see what’s in that bag. No matter what.”

 

“O-Okay.”

 

It had always amazed Tweek how adult Kenny was. But after today, he figured it had a lot to do with circumstance.

 

Tweek walked home in the cold dusk, holding the new bag to him as tightly to him as he had the previous one. He told himself he shouldn’t look at the contents inside, in case someone else was overlooking.

 

Still, the curiosity was growing inside him.

 

He stopped in the middle of the empty street, making sure no one was around. He took a deep breath. He feared that the contents could be something terrible, like a dead rat or severed body part. He almost chose to reconsider looking, out of fear of what he might see.

 

He took another deep breath, and slowly unrolled the top of the bag and peered inside.

 

They were just little white rocks.

  
  


* * *

 

 

A few days later, his dad called him into the back room of the coffee shop. His mother was out of town for the week, visiting her family, meaning that Tweek had to take off school to help out. His father said he was supposed to tell anyone who asked that he was sick. Tweek didn’t like lying, but he also knew that he had to listen to his father.

 

“Tweek, I have another very important task for you,” his father told him. He was next to the back room coffee machine, with several different cups of coffee.

 

“Oh god, dad, you  _ know _ I hate all of your tasks!” Tweek protested.

 

“Don’t worry, son, this is the sort of task I know you’ll enjoy,” his father walked over to him, and lightly tugged him to the row of coffee mugs, “I want you to be the first one to taste-test our new line of coffee.”

 

“WHAT? But mom said I absolutely can’t try the new coffee! What if she finds out? I thought I was supposed to stick to the old coffee. I don’t like this sort of press--”

 

“Tweek!” his father interrupted his hysteria, “Tweek, your mother doesn’t understand the importance in letting our son be the first to try our natural, organic coffee. You see, she’s afraid that this coffee is one you’ll love too much and won’t want to drink any other types here on after. But the way I see it, it’s better for you to appreciate our own fresh coffee more than any others.”

 

“Well why don’t YOU test it first?” Tweek protested.

 

His father laughed, “Well son,  _ I’m  _ not going to be drinking it, I have to run this entire business.”

 

“But didn’t you say when I’m grown up you want me to--”

 

“Just try the coffee, Tweek,” his father replied in a sterner tone, “Your mother isn’t here now.”

 

Defeated, Tweek agreed. He picked up the first cup on the left, and brought it to his mouth.

  
  
  


Tweek Tweak was eight years old the first time he consumed methamphetamine. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig isn't one for rumors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been really busy lately, but finally managed to pump this out! Hopefully now I'll be able to update more regularly again.

Kenny’s party was exactly like Craig had expected.

 

The ride over was in Kenny’s dad’s worn out green pickup truck. Kenny’s parents and siblings were already waiting, with some cheap party things shoved in the cargo. Most of it was already set up earlier in the day, making the party essentially read for their arrival. Mostly things like cheap dollar store plates, store-brand snacks, things that were very cheap but required Kenny’s family to scrape their money together to afford. The things already there were mainly paid for by members of the town, such as the Broflovskis.

 

Speaking of, Kyle Broflovski was also waiting with Kenny’s family. Unfortunately for Craig.

 

“We have five seats in the truck, the rest of ya’ll will have to get in the back,” Mr. McCormick called out as soon as Kenny dragged Craig to the parking lot, “so figure out amongst yourselves what ya’ll wanna do.”

 

The idea of sitting in the back of a pickup truck seemed dangerous and irresponsible, especially to a pragmatic like Craig. Yet, sitting in the car would mean being squeezed between the McCormick siblings. And Kenny’s useless older brother Kevin McCormick always smelled like cheese and motor oil.

 

“I’ll sit in the back,” Craig blurted out immediately.

 

“Yeah, how about us grads sit in the back together?” Kenny smirked, “If that’s okay with you too, Kyle.”

 

“Sure man, just don’t let my mom know,” Kyle laughed, swinging his backpack into the back of the truck and climbing over to get into it himself. Craig followed him, trying his best to not make a sardonic comment towards him.

 

His irritation towards Kyle was about as unfair and jealousy-based as it was towards Stan. To be fair, he reasonably could have gotten along with Stan had he gotten over himself. Meanwhile, with Kyle, there was always something about him that was a little “too much” for him.

 

Kyle, like Wendy, was pretty much obnoxiously perfect. He was _the_ speech-giving valedictorian, Harvard-bound, politically minded boy. His family wasn’t rich like Token, but his father’s law firm made them one of the more well off people in their relatively low-income town. He was also pretty hotheaded and preachy. Not to mention nosy. He often got involved with things that didn’t concern him in the slightest and was too stubborn to relent. Definitely the person he didn’t want to sit in the back of a pickup truck with, Craig thought as he settled in between party supplies. He let out a quiet sigh.

 

“So, uh, did you guys think my speech was okay?” Kyle asked Kenny and him as soon as the truck’s ignition ignited and prepared to back up.

 

“Yeah, dude, of course!” Kenny’s face was barely visible in the moonlit night but enough so that Craig could see him smiling, full of pride of his friend, “You’ve always been a good speaker, and it’s about time people listen to you.”

 

“I tried to make it something that wasn’t a total bore but would also be something Cartman would absolutely hate,” Kyle laughed, “What’d you think, Craig?”

 

Craig didn’t pay attention at all during the ceremony and couldn’t recall a single thing Kyle had said in his speech.

 

“What Kenny said.” Kyle seemingly took the hint, and didn’t respond back. The three sat in silence as the truck rolled through the pothole-full streets, their non-secured selves bouncinb lightly.

 

“So Kenny, who’s all coming tonight?” Kyle finally broke the silence.

 

The awkwardness immediately faded and Kenny’s face lit up again. “I invited a lot of our class,” he answered enthusiastically, “You two, Stan and Wendy, Clyde, Token, Bebe, Jason, Jimmy, Lola, and Sally said she might stop by later. It’s kinda open invitation.”

 

“Is Butter’s coming?” Kyle asked. His voice turned serious. The mood instantly fell down.

 

“Nah. You know how it’s been with him.” Kenny tried to make it sound offhanded and still, but it was clear to Craig that it was fake.

 

“Oh well. I was hoping he would,” Kyle answered, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible.

 

“Well, you know.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

For years, Kenny and Butters were best friends not at all dissimilar to Stan and Kyle or even in a way to Craig and Clyde. Kenny was also fiercely protective of Butters in a way that reminded Craig of how he himself was towards Tweek. Well, only without the whole romance and boyfriends aspect. Kenny was also especially keen on protecting Butters from Cartman who always liked to take advantage of Butters since they were very young. Butters was always a very naive, innocent boy to a fault. It was always easy for Cartman to manipulate him, to turn him into a pawn, so Kenny made it his goal to step in and prevent this.

 

Kenny himself, on the other hand, was a very “worldy” and streetwise person from a very young age. He first to try pretty much every “adult” thing. I was a weird fit, Kenny being the most “adult” while Butters arguably the most “childish” of the boys in their grade.

 

Craig never really had a problem with Butters when they were young. He was a sweet kid, and honestly the main issue he had with him wasn’t a real issue but rather that he had a lack of a strong presence that made him tend to ignore him. Still, he got along with him well enough when he had to.

 

Then high school came around. From freshman year, everyone distanced themselves from Eric Cartman. That is, everyone but Butters. Cartman told Butters that he was outcasted for no reason, and for reasons Craig didn’t understand, Butters believed him. Despite how much Kenny tried to keep Butters away from his influence, by sophomore year, Cartman had totally molded Butters into being his own little despicable sidekick. The only bright side was that, unlike Cartman, Butters still graduated high school and was planning on going to college. Maybe college would knock it out of him, Craig figured. Still, it was a touchy subject with Kenny. Maybe it was something Craig and him could relate to each other with. In a weird way. At the same time, the selfish, bad part of Craig was glad Kyle was sticking his nose into Kenny’s business and not his own.

 

By the time Craig was able to fully dwell on this and before the conversation had changed, their short ride to the Community Center was over. His family had actually pulled their money together to rent out the center all on their own--god knows no one would come if it was at Kenny’s piece of shit house.

 

Mrs. McCormick asked her three kids, Kyle, and Craig to help carry in the contents of the back into the center, so Craig helped out by carrying a bunch of cheap, brand generic napkins. He really didn’t want to have to help set up, but he noticed from the cars parked that the party had already seemingly started without Kenny, probably led by other community members.

 

Entering the center confirmed his suspicion. The walls were were already decorated with tacky shiny plastic gold and black party store decorations. “CONGRATZ KENNY” was spelled out with mismatched shiny party store letters. The tables were covered in disposable plastic table cloths with little graduation cap confetti. Catering was already all set up.

 

Kenny probably would have wanted the party made up entirely of their peers. To be honest, the whole setup reminded Craig heavily of their low budget middle school dance. A younger Kenny would have probably vocally complained that this sort of thing exceedingly lame, though the unkind years had made Kenny a very grateful person. Also being honest, it did somewhat baffle Craig. He always figured Kenny would end up just like his parents and older brother, or at most some hard working gas station attendant with working morals but little else. It was no secret that Kenny was into drinking, smoking, and milder drugs, but he seemed to be fully in control.

 

“Nothing that’ll completely fuck me up,” Kenny said once offhandedly, “I mean sure you can turn into a piece of shit alcoholic, but it’s all about moderation. Scaring yourself into being dry isn’t the solution.” That statement made Craig have all the more respect for Kenny. Not that Craig was an overbearing boyfriend who in any way controlled who Tweek could talk to, but he felt like Kenny, in a fucked up way, would be a good influence on him.

 

Still, regardless of how much they had grown, Craig couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of nostalgia for the shitty, tacky middle school dance.

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Dude this is fucking lame,” Kenny nudged Craig with his elbow. Their seventh grade dance was “tropical themed” and phased back and forth between obnoxious fake Hawaiian music with_ _real songs the students were actually into. There were a bunch of cheap plastic leis and “tropical” straw hats about that students could put on, that of course Kenny decked out in._

 

_Craig sympathized with his complaints, not being into this whole social “dance” thing himself. His mom kind of forced them to go by “surprising” them with two tickets. He found the actual dance absolutely intolerable. It was full of loud music he didn’t like, blinding colorful “club lights”, and he’d honestly would have preferred taking Tweek to a movie._

 

_“Of course it’s shit,” Craig rolled his eyes. Kenny tried to put one of his cheap leis around Craig’s neck, but Craig pushed it away, onto the floor._

 

_“I’ve been to Hawaii, you know,” Kenny told him matter of factly, “Real Hawaii is a lot cooler.”_

 

_“Bullshit. Your family is too poor to go to Hawaii.”_

 

_“It’s true,” Kenny smirked, “I went with Butters. You can ask him.”_

 

_“I don’t actually care that much.”_

 

_“Whatever you say,” Kenny shrugged, picking up the lei, “But speaking of Butters, that’s actually what I came over to talk to you about. Him, Cartman, Kyle, and I are busting out of here. Stan’s not because Wendy would throw a fit, but you and Tweek could totally take his place. We were thinking of going down to--”_

 

_“Why would we want to hang out with you?” Craig cut him off bluntly._

 

_“Okay I figured that, but with all the chaperones, you could still sneak around with us and then go make out with your boyfriend on your own. Kyle figured out a way to put on a diversion to sneak out, so you might need us for that.”_

 

_Craig sighed, not being phased the slightest by the “make out” comment. Their plans usually went to shit, but he couldn’t think of worse than this insufferable excuse for a school dance.  “I’ll go find Tweek.”_

 

_He hadn’t meant to separate from Tweek, in fact he had been on his way to go find him before Kenny so rudely elbowed him. They had been holding hands tightly one minute, but then Tweek had to go to the bathroom and Craig was going to get them both punch and now he couldn’t find him again._

 

_Craig decided to scout Tweek out along the edges of the wall, the most likely place he felt Tweek would gravitate towards. Knowing Tweek as well as he did, he was able to quickly find him slouched against the back, sipping a cup of punch._

 

_“So you didn’t need me to get you a drink afterall,” Craig joked at his boyfriend with a smile._

 

_“I knew you’d forget to,” Tweek countered. Craig didn’t know what he meant, until he noticed that his own hands were empty. He left the drinks at the punch table._

 

_“Oh, shit.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”_

 

_“It’s fine,” Tweek looked into his cup, smiling slightly, “I like that I know you so well. Let’s just stay together from now on, okay?”_

 

_“Well you know, we can sneak out if you want.” Craig leaned up against the wall, trying (and in hindsight, failing) to look like one of those boys who was too “cool” for this sort of thing. Middle school phases._

 

_“No,” Tweek shook his head, eyes shooting up at Craig with a look of shock, “We shouldn’t.”_

 

_“Don’t worry so much, it’s not like we’ll get in caught. I won’t let you get in trouble.”_

 

_“No, that’s not it!” Tweek bit his lip, looking back into his cup._

 

_“Then what’s wrong, babe?” Craig asked, putting his arm around Tweek. Tweek leaned into him, resting his head against him._

 

 _“Nothing’s wrong,” Tweek answered quietly, almost inaudible against the loud obnoxious music, “I...I know how you feel, but...I actually_ want _this, Craig.”_

 

_“You like shitty school dances?”_

 

 _Tweek pulled away from him and looked at him, shock and annoyance in his eyes. “I mean I want us to be_ normal _, Craig. I want us to have the same teenage experiences everyone else has! I always...I always--”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Dude, I didn’t see you all graduation!” Clyde interrupted his train of thought with a smack on the shoulder. His other arm was around Bebe’s waist.

 

“Ow dude,” Craig shoved him away.

 

“Actually, that’s a lie. I did see you,” Clyde ignored his protests, “I saw you from afar. With Tweek.”

 

“Yeah, are you two cool now?” Bebe piped in. She was wrapped all around Clyde, with both of their cups in her hand. Craig hadn’t tried the punch yet, but given Kenny’s classy family, he figured it was probably spiked. Bebe’s enunciation sure made it _sound_ spiked. He could just figure Kenny stopping by before their ceremony pouring in one of his dad’s bottles of vodka. He figured hes shouldn’t try it.

 

Though also, given that the party only started, he could also imagine Clyde and Bebe getting drunk before the ceremony.

 

“I don’t understand how you are both legal adults now and still don’t understand the concept of minding your own business.”

 

“Aww, Craig, you two were the cutest couple in this town for years and everyone is worried about you BOTH,” Bebe added. Yes, she was definitely tipsy. With the way this night was going, maybe he _should_ try the punch.

 

“You’re not saying they were cuter than us, are you?” Clyde mewled pathetically back. Craig found them sickening.

 

“Babe, I love you,” she giggled, spilling their drinks as she hugged Clyde tighter, “But no. Nothing can top the cool, hot bad boy and his adorable little disaster.”

 

Craig raised an eyebrow, “Literally what the fuck have I ever done that would classify me as a ‘bad boy’?”

 

“It’s not that you _are_ one, it’s just the, I dunno,” she made an over-expressive pondering face, “I guess the sort of _image_ you two put off as a pair. You were kinda his knight and shining armor and he was the one to melt your cold, dead heart!”

 

Craig rolled his eyes and walked away, heading towards the punch. Well, he forced himself to outwardly roll his eyes. Internally, he really didn’t want to dwell on him and Tweek. Either by the mention of him or seeing another happy couple. Thankfully, Clyde and Bebe were too into each other to go after him.

 

He decided to try the punch. Of course it was spiked. Craig would be lying if he said he never stole alcohol from his parents’ cabinet, but he was always amazed by the gall of his classmates. It was pretty strong, so he decided to water his own cup down with an unopened bottle of sprite sitting next to it.

 

The music was blasted from a laptop from someone’s music library. Much better than the shitty tropical music at their school dance so long ago.

 

The food was from City Wok, which wasn’t really a surprise. It wasn’t that good of a place, but Craig figued now that he was an adult soon to move onto college, he should learn the art of accepting free food whenever he could. He found Jason White sitting down at one of the foldable chairs. He found Jason kind of boring, but he figured he would be an unassuming person to socialize with in the meantime.

 

But after not much time later he saw him. A thin, blond boy standing alone.

 

No, not _his_ thin, blond boy. Butters.

 

His presence gave Craig a very odd feeling, one he was sure alcohol wasn’t the root cause of. He set his place aside, getting up, prepared, against his better judgment, to approach him.

 

“Craig!” another voice called out before he could make his way to his destination.

 

Eric Cartman. Quite probably the worst possible person. It also made Craig’s stomach feel worse, realizing instantly that he was probably the only reason Butters was here.

 

“Are you even supposed to be here?” Craig groaned. Despite childhood friendships, he was pretty sure there wasn’t a person Kenny hated more than Cartman.

 

“Heard you broke up with your little boyfriend,” Cartman sneered, dodging the question.

 

“And I hear that you’re an overweight high school dropout who is going to live unemployed with his crackwhore mom for the rest of his life,” Craig retorted. It was possibly a good thing that Cartman was the one person who could bring his breakup up and make him more irritated than sad.

 

“What, but I thought you _liked_ druggies,” Cartman jeered. Okay, that pissed Craig off.

 

“I’ll give you one whole chance to take that back before I rip out your throat,” Craig replied. He kept his usual sarcastic deadpan tone, but the glare he gave Cartman showed that he meant it.

 

“C’mon, Craig,” Cartman smirked, “ _Everyone_ knows Tweek is a druggie. He probably broke up with you so he could whore himself for drugs guilt free. That is, implying he isn’t too far gone and still has a conscience--”

 

Okay, that was enough to make Craig’s deadpan control fly away.

 

“COULD YOU SHUT _UP_ FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE _?”_ Craig yelled, “Tweek doesn’t fucking do drugs, okay?! It’s jackasses like you that make everyone _believe_ that shit! I don’t get why no one in this fucking town can just _leave him alone!_ ”

 

He was only partially aware that he grabbed Cartman’s collar.

 

“Wassup guys,” Kenny piped in with a cautious tone, trying to break the tension. As per norm for Kenny, out of seemingly nowhere.

 

Craig let his anger subside slightly and looked at Kenny. It was then he realized Kenny didn’t just appear out of nowhere. He did kind of scream and create a scene in a relatively small space, leading everyone to look at him and Cartman.

 

This wasn’t like Craig. It was _embarrassing._

 

“Congrats on graduaing Kenny,” Craig finally responded under his breath and turned to exit. He wanted to go home. He wanted away from this fucked up town, away from everyone’s stares, away from _Tweek._ Away from anyone who knew him.

 

Clyde called after him, but he ignored him.

 

Craig pushed his way through the entrance and as soon as the night wind hit his face he let himself cry. He pushed his back against the brick wall of the community center and let him slide down against it to the ground and sobbed into his arms. He liked to think he wasn't a big crier. Sure, he got teary eyed like any normal person, but sobbing like this? He hated it. He was supposed to be Craig Tucker, the one who was always above the irrational, always in control of his emotions.

 

He loved Tweek. He loved Tweek, but it was over.

 

Everything was over.

 

“Way to put a damper on my party.”

 

That was the third time this evening Kenny appeared unwanted.

 

“Fuck off,” Craig tried to retort in his usual demeanor but came out as a sob. He really didn’t want to deal with _anyone_ right now, let alone Kenny.

 

Of course, Kenny just laughed quietly and took a seat on the ground next to him. He angled himself in a laid back position, his arms crossed behind his head. Craig knew he wasn’t planning on going away.

 

“Go enjoy your party or something,” Craig finally let out.

 

“Nah, I need a break for a while,” Kenny sighed. He sat up, rummaging through his pockets, pulling out a lighter and cigarette. “Smoke?”

 

“Dude, you know I don’t do any of that shit.”

 

“Oh, that’s right,” Kenny replied in a dazed tone. He lit his cigarette and gave it a blow.

 

Kenny was going to let there be awkward silence until Craig finally spoke. He knew _exactly_ what he was trying to do, and it pissed him off. He should just get up and head home, leaving Kenny on his own and hopefully never seeing him again.

 

“You know, that’s the thing,” Craig finally said, irritated that Kenny won but lacked the self control not to, “Tweek is so adamantly against this sorta thing. One time I brought up trying pot or a single cigarette and he flipped the fuck out on me. He was all, ‘Craig no, drugs are all terrible!’ and I was ‘Tweek, you can’t dictate my whole life’ but then he started crying and I realized how important this whole thing was to him.”

 

Kenny let out another drag of his cigarette.

 

So like...it’s not _fair_ to him, man. He’s one of the biggest anti-drug people in the world, and yet because he’s a little ‘weird’ everyone starts that shit,” Craig continued.

 

“You know Cartman is an asshole who will try to say anything to offend anyone, right?” Kenny finally replied.

 

“What the fuck were you thinking inviting him anyway?”

 

“Of course I fucking didn’t,” Kenny sounded offended at the accusation. “My mom did without knowing what she was doing. Cartman is too fucking dangerous to kick out.”

 

“He dragged Butters here to be an asshole, didn’t he?”

 

“Probably,” Kenny let out a drag, “But that just goes to show that Cartman is a terrible person and you shouldn’t take what he said about Tweek seriously.”

 

“Well,” Craig conceded, looking down at his feet, “It wasn’t just Cartman. A lot of people said it. Or insinuated it. Thought it.”

 

Kenny put out his cigarette on the sidewalk and flicked the bud away into the grass.

 

“Craig, have you ever considered that maybe Tweek _does_ have a drug problem and maybe he wanted you to stay away from everything out of fear you would be just like him?”

 

“Oh fuck you!” Craig snarled, standing up. Not fucking Kenny _too._ He’d had enough of this.

 

“Wait!” Kenny shot up, “I didn’t say he _does_! I’m just saying, you don’t exactly seem to ever consider anything he goes through. I know you love him and think the world of him, but perhaps in doing so you don’t exactly pay attention to his flaws when he needs you to?”

 

“You don’t know _anything_ about Tweek,” Craig muttered under his breath, as he continued to leave.

 

“And are you so sure _you_ do?” Kenny called out, his tone flat and even.

 

Craig stopped in his tracks. Fuck Kenny. Fuck everything nice he thought about him.

 

“Fine then,” Craig turned around, looking Kenny directly in the face, “Tell me one thing you know about him that I don’t.”

 

“Well, for one, I know he still loves you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What comes up must come down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [WARNING: People overcoming drug addiction may want to read with caution. PLEASE pay attention to tags. I don't think any other chapter will go this hard, if you only want to skip this one, though obviously Tweek's addiction will be further addressed.]
> 
> I am going to be extremely candid: This chapter was mentally very difficult for me to write as someone who is trying to get over passed drug related issues. It was extremely EASY for me to write parts of it, as I'm someone who is able to write based on experience, and to a large degree it was almost therapeutic, but then part of me wondered if it was too therapeutic in the absolute worst way. Still, I decided that I wanted to write this the way I did to kind of as a personal vent to those who don't really seem to...understand? 
> 
> As I've mentioned before, I've never actually done meth, specifically. I tried to do as much research as possible, but if there are any clear mistakes made, please let me know. If my portrayal seems more reminiscent of other drugs...well, you know why. 
> 
> Lastly, I am trying to portray this topic as fairly and candidly as possible, as someone who has had experience with the topic. I'm not setting out to be ALL DRUGS ARE EVIL nor do I want to stigmatize drug users. That said, please don't do meth or other unequivocally dangerous drugs.

When Tweek first drank the coffee, he didn’t feel anything. The new ingredient made the coffee taste sort of like chemicals. There was a little sweetness to it, but he far preferred their old kind. His father had him take a few sips of each of the three cups, with about a minute or so in between, to gauge his response.

 

“Do you feel anything now, son?” his father asked after he had emptied all three cups, now examining his son like a bug under a microscope.

 

Tweek shifted slightly, “I mean, it just tastes like coffee with some chemical in it.”

 

“No, I mean do you  _ feel _ anything? How does it make you  _ feel _ ?” There something about his father’s voice that sounded excited.

 

“Uh...not really anything?” Tweek responded. Well, he did feel a little nervous. He was trying a new coffee with a new ingredient that his mom didn’t want him to ever have. 

 

He also always felt uncomfortable in the storeroom. It was where his parents usually had him work, to be out of public sight, but there was something about it that unsettled him. It was so dark and dreary, making him feel as if he was locked away in some dungeon.

 

Part of him wondered if he was like someone in a fairy tale. A scared little boy forced to clean out a dark and dusty room while all the other children got to go to school every day or play outside. He wondered if one day someone would rescue him.

 

He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, though. He knew fairytales were fake. And also that role usually went to girls. He was a boy, and according to all the stories it was supposed to be  _ him _ that saved a fair maiden.

 

“I see,” his father broke his fantasy, disappointment and confusing growing on his face. He hit the table as he stood up, as if to signal the end of the test-tasting experiment. “Well then son, run along home and let me know if anything changes.”

 

“W-What type of changes am I looking for?” he asked as he got up, hoping his father’s answer would be brief so he could go home.

 

“You’ll know.”

 

Tweek twitched and let out a little yelp at this. The idea of  _ anything _ new happening to him was always a frightening thought, but the idea of something he couldn’t anticipate was even worse. 

 

His father helped him undo his apron and led him out the storeroom, out of the empty store with the house key in his pocket. That said, Tweek was to walk home on his own. It was still briskly cold, and Tweek didn’t have a jacket. He just wanted to lay in his bed and hope nothing would happen.

 

It was a Tuesday morning. He should be at school. Sure, school terrified him, but at the same time he liked being there. He wanted to fade into the background of his classrooms, not noticed but blending in all the same. The problem was, he often  _ didn’t _ blend in. He was the weird, twitchy kid. Other kids protested being paired up with him, acting as if he had some sickness they were afraid of catching.

 

He clutched his hands into fists, fingernails digging into his palm enough to break skin, and crossed his arms tightly into his chest as if hugging himself. He didn’t want to cry in public, so he bit his lip. His father wanted him to go home unnoticed so people wouldn’t question his school absence anyway.

 

He hated everything. He wanted out. He wanted to escape to a world where everything was safe and people actually loved him. Not this, not being forced to be apart from his peers to be his father’s guinea pig.

 

Tweek stopped in his tracks. He realized that he had went well beyond his house and was now at the edge of the woods.

 

But he was not afraid.

 

His feelings of anxiety suddenly melted away like a cold breeze of air, hitting every cell in his small body.

 

He felt it.

 

The forest was suddenly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. 

 

He wasn’t worried about going too far. He longer cared about being in his warm bed. The pines on the evergreen trees had turned into beautiful emeralds, the snow on it reflecting in on them like diamonds. The cold that bothered him now tingled against his skin in a very pleasing way.

 

He was always afraid of the forest, but now it seemed like the most beautiful and safe place in the entire world. It looked fake, like something out of a painting. Nothing that could ever exist in South Park. He wondered if the forest was magic.

 

Tweek realized that for the first time in a long time he was smiling. His heartbeat was racing, creating a sense of warmth in the cold that would normally frighten him but now made him feel more alive than he ever had. All of his problems had seemed to melt away. His parents? Who cares what they thought. His classmates? He was a likable person, he was sure that he could win them over. He was strong, confident. Likable.

 

Without even thinking about potential repercussions, he ran into the woods.

 

He felt like he could run forever, and honestly part of him wanted to. He figured he might very well be the fastest boy in the world. He ran and ran, feeling like he was flying. Air entered his lungs in gasps and gave an indescribable feeling. Like he was breathing better than he ever had before. Like the mere act of breathing was such a fun task he never actually noticed.

 

Why had he always hated physical activity? It was so FUN! He was so good at it!

 

His running was only stopped as he tripped over a log. He flew in the air and landed, hands and knees into the ground, padded slightly by the snow.

 

This didn’t really upset him though. Normally, he’d freak out, wondering if he broke a bone, if he ripped his pants. But not today. Today he ended his world record breaking marathon run with a flying leap. He was so proud of himself. He couldn’t wait to go to PE class and show off how great he is. He’d beat everyone. He was the best runner!

 

Tweek rolled over on his back. He could feel the snow still on his face, so he reached to wipe it off with his sleeves. Obsessively, he brushed his face off until there were no more signs of wetness. A daunting task, given that his own sleeves also had snow. He decided to also use his bare hands, wiping away every last water droplet. 

 

He was hyperaware that he was rubbing his face raw, but it didn’t bother him. It wasn’t the same time of obsessive behavior he usually had, full of panic. Instead, it was a careful hobby he wouldn’t mind completing for hours. 

 

Maybe he was spending hours. He wasn’t really sure nor bothered enough to figure it out.

 

He honestly felt like he was trapped in a time warp. He wiped off a snowflake, only to circle back and wipe it again. And again. And again.

 

After an unknown amount of time, Tweek realized there couldn’t be this much snow on him that he still hadn’t completely dried his face. It was sweat. A break in the loop.

 

He sat up and grabbed his shirt with his fists, obsessively wiping his face off. He didn’t know where the sweat was coming from, he had stopped running a while ago. He wanted it off! He had the ability to wipe off his face! He could do anything he wanted! He scraped his face with his nails, probably hard enough to leave red lines, obsessively trying to scrape away all the sweat.

 

It was no use. His entire body was sweaty.

 

He let himself fall back down on his back in the snow with a light huff. He turned his head to the left, uncaring that his cheek was now covered in snow.

 

The snow actually felt great against his sweaty, raw skin. He didn’t know why he wanted to remove the snow from his face in the first place. The snow was hugging him. Comforting him. The entire forest was here for him. He felt pins and needles in his skin, but it was exhilarating.

 

He had never been more in tune with his senses. He heard every movement created by the breeze, he heard cars in the distance, birds that had not flown south singing. It was like there was a part of him that until now had all of his senses bottled up, only to now be released to make way for their full potential.

 

He noticed a dead leaf inches from his nose, and sat up once more to look at it. He analyzed the leaf as if it were a work of art. He looked at each vein in the brown leaf as if he were memorizing it. The back of his mind knew it was probably weird to be studying this leaf so attentively, but he didn’t care.

 

He wasn’t normally the type to pick up dead leaves in the first place. He was too afraid that they’d be dirty or that it would contain some poisonous spider. 

 

He also recalled that normally he would be too scared to enter the forest at all.

 

Not today! He was like Snow White, once afraid of the forest, only to learn that it was a beautiful place full of friends. Inviting, safe, home. He was the king of this forest, afterall.

 

He had no idea how long he was staring at that leaf.

 

He figured he should explore his forest some more. His confidence levels weren’t quite as high as when he first saw it, so he wanted to rectify this. He wanted to  _ feel _ the forest more, feel every breeze, look at every bit of life, and march with an air of confidence that showed that he owned the place.

 

Wandering the forest  _ was _ nice, but after so long he couldn’t help but feel the magic of it fade more and more. He didn’t know why or how, but he wanted it back. Cinderella wasn’t made to go back to her scullery maid life.

 

He was terrified of not getting it back.

 

Instinctively, he felt his fingers thread through his messy blond hair and pulled at it. The idea of going back to  _ old Tweek _ made his heart race again. He didn’t want to view himself as the old Tweek, terrified of everything, unable to fit in. Everything was feeling so  _ good _ , how could he ever survive without maintaining this? 

 

His thoughts were messy, but the desire was crystal clear.

 

He squatted down on the ground, hands gripping his hair tighter and tighter, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening.

 

_ “You’ll know.” _

 

Tweek opened his eyes.

 

The coffee? 

 

It seemed silly that it didn’t dawn on him sooner.

 

It was already getting dark.

 

How was it getting dark? He wasn’t out here that long!

 

He realized he wasn’t exactly sure where in the forest he was. He wasn’t afraid of being lost, though. He was determined to get out, to get home to his father. So determined, that the concept of being lost in a darkening woods didn’t even frighten him like it normally would.

 

He no longer felt like some serene being that was one with the forest. He was  _ angry _ .

 

Tweek ran and ran for who knows how long. He stumbled a few times and nicked his arm on a low lying branch, but managed to keep himself from completely falling. It was a brisk run that made him feel more like an action movie hero on the run than superman flying.

 

Perhaps he was stuck in a time loop again?

 

Finally, he saw an opening through the trees. It was like a heaven, freeing him from this terrible, wretched woods. He hoped and prayed that it led out directly to his house, where he could make everything feel right again.

 

Instead, he ran headfirst into Kenny McCormick, knocking them both to the ground.

 

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing all the way out here?” Kenny muffled frantically through his orange coat. He got up and offered a hand to Tweek, which was refused.

 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be in my way,” Tweek growled, helping himself up. The agession coming out of his voice surprised both of them.

 

“Well, we’re in my yard on a school night,” Kenny retorted, “I didn’t think you had a pickup tonight.”

 

“I don’t, but I can go wherever I want.” Tweek was never this rude, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t feel any reason for himself to be nice. 

 

“I’m not saying you can’t dude, but--Hey wait, weren’t you supposed to be sick today?”

 

“I was busy.”

 

“In the woods?” Even with his hood obscuring most of his face, Tweek could see his eyebrow raise. Kenny didn’t mind the aggression, once he got passed the initial reaction of it coming from  _ Tweek,  _ being that he hung out with Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman of all people.

 

“I needed to help my family business,” Tweek replied both matter of factly and harshly, finding no reason to lie.

 

“In the woods?” Kenny repeated. This time his voice was more deadpan.

 

“He needed me to test the new coffee using the stuff from the pickup. So I did. Then I ran into the woods.”

 

Tweek could see Kenny’s mostly obscured face turn into extreme horror.

 

“Wait, you mean...Fuck,” Kenny answered quietly after a brief pause. After dwelling on it some more, his tone became more frantic. “You’re high, aren’t you?! FUCK! Your dad gave you that fucking shit, didn’t he? Tweek  _ dude _ we should take you to the fucking hospital, man.”

 

“I want to go home,” Tweek responded, apathetic to Kenny’s worries.

 

“I--Goddammit, I’ll get my parents,” Kenny grabbed Tweek’s hand and pulled him towards his house, “C’mon.”

 

Apparently, Tweek’s father had already called the McCormicks (and much of South Park) asking about his son. Mrs. McCormick called Mr. Tweak immediately, informing him that his son was safe there, and that he could pick him up.

 

Kenny protested, begging them to take Tweek to the hospital. His voice was evey bit as harsh as Tweek’s own was. Kenny’s protests were followed by equally loud counter protests from his parents. The littlest McCormick girl cried, scared of the whole situation.

 

“Take me home!” Tweek demanded. He was going to go into a full fledged panic unless he got home soon. Something told him that this panic would be far worse than any he ever had before. He couldn’t deal with that.

 

“Hold on son, your dad is coming for you,” Mr. McCormick told him.

 

“Don’t let his dad fucking take him, this is insane! He’s a goddamn kid!” Kenny yelled back.

 

“Kenny, dammit, this is none of our fucking business. Do you want them to find out whose fucking house it came from?” His dad retorted, shoving Kenny hard, pushing him back a full foot. The little girl cried more, running to her brother’s side to hang onto him.

 

“Go to your room, Karen,” Kenny said softly yet sternly, trying to gently unwrap her from him.

 

“See that shit, Kenny,” his dad yelled back, “You want to shield everyone. But that’s not how the world fucking works, does it? You have to deal with a lotta shit ya don’t like. You can’t go around trying to shield people.”

 

Kenny merely gave his father a glare, picked his sister up gently, and carried her off to her room, slamming the door behind him.

 

The house still felt really hectic. The older McCormick brother was arguing with Mrs. McCormick about something new entirely, the tv was loudly on some stereotypical trashy channel, and there were still visible and audible signs of anger from Mr. McCormick from the previous altercation. 

 

It made Tweek almost soberly appreciate his sterile and quiet home life.

 

He wanted to go home. He  _ needed _ to go home.

 

As if answering his thoughts, there was a knock at the door. Mr. McCormick huffed over to answer it.

 

“Listen Richard, we can’t have you letting your son shoot up and come wandering over here. He’s gonna become a big liability for us all.”

 

Tweek’s father was completely unphased. He heard him simply and carefully respond, “Oh, don’t worry. This was a fluke accident. This will never happen again.”

 

“Even if you’re dealin’ with the guest house people and it’s technically none of my business, I’m not comfortable with this shit going to eight year olds.”

 

“As I said, it won’t happen again,” he replied smoothly. He looked over Mr. McCormick’s shoulder at Tweek, who was standing in the middle of the entryway completely filthy. Yet, his father looked at him not with the shock a normal father would. Instead, he looked at him with the same neutral expression he always did.

 

“Come along now, son,” his father called for him, heading back out the doorway. Tweek instinctively nodded and followed him, somewhat shoving passed Mr. McCormick, and down the snow covered driveway into their car.

 

They sat in silence for a few seconds before the car was ignited. 

 

“I take it that one was probably too strong,” his father told him, “We can’t have people running into the woods. We need that nice flair that makes people not know what hit them.”

 

“I need more,” Tweek responded deadly. It was all Tweek  _ could  _ respond with. He could feel the good feelings fade, replaced by a darkness and pain that was sure to encompass him.

 

“You have to know you’re grounded, son.”

 

Tweek hit his fists against the dashboard, “I DON’T CARE! I JUST NEED MORE! I CAN FEEL IT FADING, AND I NEED MORE! FOR ONCE CAN’T YOU JUST HELP ME?!”

 

His father was still unphased.

 

“I figured as much,” he responded. He picked up a thermostat from the cup holder, and offered it to his son. “Here, try this. This should hold you better, and won’t be as strong. But you’re going to have to stay in our house until it is all over, and you aren’t to tell anyone else.”

 

Tweek grabbed the mug as if he were magnetically charged to it. He would kill to get this mug if he had to. Hands shaking, he turned the lid, and brought the coffee to his lips, drinking the entire contents as fast as he could.

 

* * *

 

It was Thursday.

 

Tweek hadn’t slept since he had awoken that Tuesday morning.

 

The past four days had been great. For the most part. He had stayed in his room for the majority, meticulously building every every block in his room. He was the best builder, creating great cities.

 

Kyle Broflovski stopped by each day to give Tweek his schoolwork to keep up. His dad made him stay in his room with the door locked when he arrived, so Tweek couldn’t see him. But Tweek could still hear him.

 

“Mr. Garrison told me I had to bring this here,” he said.

 

No, “I hope Tweek feels better soon!” Eight year old Kyle had no concern with Tweek’s health. He just thought he was weird and odd like everyone else.

 

Still, he was grateful he had his papers. Tweek was a pretty average student, but suddenly the mundane task of studying was fascinating. Even after he filled out all the problems, he read his work again. Tweek was so smart, so capable. He was probably smarter than South Park Spelling Bee Champ Kyle Broflovski. Kyle would realize how wrong he was about him.

 

He wanted this to last forever. Tweek’s father would give him more of the special coffee when he begged.

 

But it wouldn’t last forever. As his kindergarten teacher would say, “What goes up, must come down.” The terrible feelings he tried to escape were finally coming.

 

Tweek often had insomnia, but not like this. 

 

Tweek started to get paranoid that he might never sleep again.

 

Tweek often had bouts of paranoia, but not like this.

 

He was used to fearing the dark, but never had he seen the darkness move.

 

They came slowly over the first couple days, due to his lack of sleep. Little shadow people, hiding in the corner of his eyes, running away as soon as he came into focus. The growing bad feelings only heightened them.

 

He was also always afraid of bugs, but he never thought they would actually crawl under his skin. They were under his skin! He could feel them as realistically as he could visible bugs on top of him. He dug his fingernails into his skin enough to bleed in an attempt to scoop them out.

 

_ “Your mother is coming home Saturday, I think that’s enough for you.” _

 

His heart dropped. Did his father want to kill him?

 

He had screamed at his father when he said this. He even knocked over a vase, letting it shatter to the floor.

 

His father had to break his normal stoic demeanor to grab Tweek, holding his arms down so he couldn’t punch him. His father very rarely seemed to actually panic, but he was panicking, begging Tweek to calm down.

 

He was locked in the guest room. His father said he was afraid that he was afraid he was going to hurt himself.

 

Tweek wasn’t hurting himself, his father was trying to kill him! He was locking him like Rapunzel, throwing away the key. He was being left to rot.

 

Rapunzel didn’t have to deal with people in the shadows coming after her in  _ her  _ tower.

 

Tweek banged on the door, begging his father to let him out.

 

He was ignored.

 

He was going to be left there forever.

 

_ “He built you to suffer,”  _ the shadow people told him.

 

“Go AWAY!” Tweek sobbed, trying to smack them away. They were just as visible as his father had been. Their voices just as clear.

 

_ “You were tricked, Tweek”  _ one shadow replied,  _ “The coffee was lying to you! No one actually likes you. Everyone would rather you die.” _

 

Tweek considered breaking open the locked window and escaping out of it. He didn’t really care about how life threatening that may be.

 

_ “You’re probably actually safer in here,”  _ another shadow person informed him.

 

Tweek hated this, but figured they were probably right.

 

He had felt like the absolute _ best  _ before, but now he felt like his absolute worst. His mouth was drier than it ever had been, his lips frequently bleeding. He bit the inside of his mouth clenching his jaw,  the cut also pained him.

 

The bugs under his skin still wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he scratched or picked at them.

 

But he knew if he went out, he wouldn't receive help. They would just try to make his suffering worse. He is safest here.

 

He still didn’t trust the shadow people.

 

But faces he saw in the window frightened him much more.

 

* * *

 

“I think our son is a true spaz,” Mr. Tweek said to his wife Saturday upon her return.

 

Tweek still felt terrible, but the psychosis was more manageable.

 

He had told Tweek that he had given him low dosages, but that his young body had a low tolerance. The combination of the caffeine from the coffee also probably also had an adverse effect. He would only mix it with decaf coffee from now on. And using an even lower dosage. He just had to rest for now.

 

Tweek cried again. He didn’t want to deal with this comedown, this psychosis. He felt so sweaty and filthy. His mouth hurt. The sores he created burned. He was so tired. He was so hungry. He hadn’t had a single desire to eat the whole time, but now it pained his stomach.

 

But the good feelings were so  _ good _ . He would give anything to go back to the magical feeling he had in the forest. He knew that despite the pain he was feeling now, he couldn’t reject it again.

 

Eight year old Tweek didn’t understand what he was taking, nor what drug addiction was, but that didn’t stop him from being subjected to it.

 

His mother, upon her return, was alarmed by the mess her son had become and the mess around the house he created, but not to the degree a normal mother would. 

 

“I wonder if it’s related to his ADD?” she simply responded.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, comments, etc.
> 
> I'm curious what people think. As someone who lived through...comparable experiences, part of me felt like I didn't really express things hard enough, but on the other hand I'm concerned that I went too hard.
> 
> Anyway, as I said, other chapters won't be like this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what type of boyfriend was Craig?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively shorter kind of messy chapter that I almost deleted, but decided to include as I work on the next chapter. That one will probably be the longest and is plot heavy. It should come out pretty soon as I already wrote it all out and just need to edit it. Also as a note, some parts of this were originally in chapter 5, but deleted for tone/structure.
> 
> Now is as good of time as any to clarify "canon" in this story. I view it as close to the show canon as possible without the supernatural elements. So a lot of the events happened like Harbucks, Kenny going to Hawaii, etc but the supernatural elements didn't (ex. underpants gnomes, Kenny dying, staying in 8-10 for 20 years.) I should have said this earlier but I think in the show canon Tweek was probably on meth laced coffee before Gnomes, but for narrative sake I changed a number of events in that episode.

Craig didn’t wake up until noon the next day. He figured he just graduated high school and therefore deserved sleep in.

 

 _“Have you ever considered that maybe Tweek_ does _have a drug problem?”_

 

He mentally took back all the nice things he ever said about Kenny.

 

_“I know he still loves you.”_

 

Craig bit the inside of his mouth. He didn’t know what to make of that.

 

If Tweek still loved him, surely he wouldn’t have broken up with him. Right?

 

“My little graduate has finally arisen from the dead,” his mom smirked at him as he came down the stairs. She was preparing lunch for his sister and father and upon noticing him got out another plate.

 

“I just want a poptart,” he said to her, going to rummage through the pantry. It might be noon, but he wanted his breakfast food upon waking up. She frowned, but put the plate back away.

 

“So how was the party last night?” she asked in a very typical motherly way.

 

“Whatever I guess,” he answered, grabbing the poptart. He didn’t really want to talk about this. He should just go back to his room.

 

“Was Tweek there?” Tricia piped in, apparently having been eavesdropping from the living room.

 

“No, he wasn’t,” he gripped the poptart tightly enough to mildly crumple it, “But what I _really_ want is for everyone to stop fucking talking about him. Jesus fucking Christ. He’s my ex fucking boyfriend, he’s not a part of my life anymore and I want to fucking keep it that way.”

 

“Craig,” his mother lightly scolded.

 

“No, fuck this! Why did you have to call him over? Why did you put both of us on the spot like that? Everyone in the goddamn school saw what you did and now can’t shut up about it,” Craig found his voice raising again.

 

He sighed. He needed to get back in control of his emotions again. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.

 

His mother was taken aback but before she could bring out an answer he had already managed to make it back in his room. He didn’t want to deal with anyone, so he was careful not to slam the door.

 

It was only then he realized he hadn’t checked his phone. Naturally, it was full of texts from Clyde, Token, Jimmy, etc wondering what the fuck happened.

 

He really didn’t want to answer. But at the very least, he figured he should probably answer Clyde, so he sent him a text saying that he was alright, got home alright, and to pretend it never happened. Clyde was also a good choice to text back because he was probably either asleep or hungover or both and not up for a conversation.

 

Kenny also texted him. He figured he should probably just block him. He didn’t.

 

Craig laid back down in his bed and ate the poptart, not really caring if crumbs got everywhere.  He was wide awake now, but he just wanted to go back to sleep. He wasn’t going to college for another three months. Three months of limbo in this town, trying to avoid parts with people he hated.

 

_“He still loves you.”_

 

Craig hated this. He shoved the big piece of poptart left into his mouth and rolled onto his side.

 

_“What are you thinking about?” Craig asked Tweek._

 

Even his goddamn room wasn’t safe from memories of Tweek.

 

His mind went back to when they were 14. They were on Craig’s bed, supposedly studying for their Earth Science midterm. Craig thought it was incredibly boring and decided to plop his head down on his boyfriend’s lap, leading Tweek to run his fingers through his hair. He was too embarrassed to say it, but it felt nice.

 

This whole thing was nice. He could lay there for hours, feeling Tweek’s fingers play with his hair and scalp. His fingers were always icy cold, but he didn’t mind. He never minded.

 

_“Your hair,” Tweek said, “The roots are brown.”_

 

_Craig shot up, his head nearly hitting Tweek’s chin. “Goddammit,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, reaching for a mirror to analyze himself._

 

_“I didn’t know you dyed it.”_

 

 _“Yeah and I don’t_ want _people to know I dye it. Black hair suits my image, but people_ knowing _I dye it makes me seem totally lame!”_

 

_Tweek laughed, “Craig, I don’t think it makes you lame. I don’t think that’s possible!”_

 

_Craig turned around, back at his boyfriend. He was smiling, like an absolute ray of sunshine. It physically hurt Craig how beautiful he found Tweek. His heart felt warm, completely antithetical to his normal persona, but he didn’t care. He loved Tweek._

 

_He was going to say it._

 

_“Tweek, you know I-I-,” Craig stumbled._

 

_“You?” Tweek smirked._

 

_Nope. He couldn’t say it. It was too much._

 

_“I-I’m glad you think so,” Craig managed, “I think you’re pretty cool, too.” Tweek’s smile faltered for a moment. He smiled again, though lacking the warmth of before._

 

_“Right,” he replied, picking up a textbook off the bed, “But let’s study now.”_

 

Craig didn’t realize he had sat up in accordance to his memory. He often found himself doing that, acting out deep thoughts of his. It was an embarrassing trait Tricia had made fun of him for numerous times, but he usually managed to hide that fact from the general public. Or rather, he hoped he did.

 

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked in the mirror. His roots were getting lighter again.

 

His mother and him were both natural brunettes, with his mother dying her hair blonde and him black. When he was about eight or nine years old, when watching her, he asked if he could dye his hair, too. At first she objected, saying he was much too young, but eventually allowed it. When he was young, it became something the two of them did together. Now, he did it on his own in the shower.

 

He often wore hats that obstructed most of his hair in elementary school and he tried to dye it a little over time so no one would notice. He wouldn’t really care _anymore_ if people knew, given that he didn’t care about his image as he used to, but he still never mentioned it to anyone. Tweek was the only non-family member he told. He liked it that way.

 

It also was a distraction of how he failed to tell Tweek he loved him that day.

 

He’s told Tweek since then of course, though. Or at least he thinks he did. Surely he did?

 

Craig pondered a minute. Didn’t he?

 

Tweek would say it casually in passing all the time. Things like “I’m your love, right?” or “Craig, you know I love you!”

 

Yeah, surely Craig said it back. He just couldn’t remember a specific time he did. They’d been dating so long, he _had_ to have mentioned it once. They slept together before! He surely at _least_ said it then. Craig didn’t really want to think back to those times in his current emotional state but he knew he would whisper Tweek’s name, call him his list of pet names, and...surely said “I love you” then! Well, even so, Tweek _knew_ he was bad at words and that he did, even if he didn’t _say_ it. Which he did. He totally did.

 

_“Tweek still loves you.”_

 

_“You’re the densest person I have ever met.”_

 

No, that couldn’t be it. He couldn’t have ruined everything by not letting Tweek know how much he meant to him. That wasn’t it, that couldn’t be it.

 

Craig rummaged for his phone again. Should he call that asshole Kenny? He seemed to know more than he let on. Maybe Kenny knew something. Maybe--

 

He decided to call Clyde instead.

 

 _“Craig? Dude, I’m hungover as shit,”_ Clyde answered after a few rings.

 

“I don’t care.”

 

 _“Of course you don’t, you’re an asshole,”_ Clyde groaned.

 

“Yeah I know, but that’s why I’m calling.”

 

_“To make my hangover worse?”_

 

“What? No, no. I’m calling because you know I’m an asshole, right? You’re always around me, right?”

 

_“Um, yeah?”_

 

“Well, I want to know. Was I always an asshole to Tweek?”

 

 _“What? Dude, no! Tweek is like the only person you actually showed any sort of emotion to. I mean sure, you were still_ you--”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

_“--but no, I don’t think think that was it. You were usually a model boyfriend. Except when you weren’t.”_

 

“Did I...Did you ever hear me tell him I love him?”

 

_“Dude, what the fuck? Why would I fucking know. I don’t pay attention to everything you say to each other.”_

 

“Fine.”

 

 _“But uh,”_ Clyde answered, his voice turning more serious, _“I’m glad you texted me saying you’re okay. We were really worried about you. Take care of yourself, dude.”_

 

Craig couldn’t think of an answer, so he just hung up. Which was probably rude, but something Clyde would expect from him by now after years of their friendship.

 

Craig sighed, tossing his phone aside onto his bed as he walked into his bathroom. He went through the medicine cabinet, grabbing the black hair dye, and proceeded to the shower.

 

* * *

 

 

Summer break went by faster than anticipated. His family, including Uncle Skeeter and Red, went on a trip to California for one week of it, going to all the beach areas, Hollywood, and Disneyland.

 

Craig didn’t get the whole Disneyland thing, given that the youngest there was his sister who was already 16, but Red insisted for some reason. Kevin also got to come along for some obnoxious reason, and the two of them had matching Mickey ears, shaped like Death Stars that Kevin himself picked out. They would run around in that stupid shit, riding the Star Tours ride fifty million times despite the fact that Craig _knows_ Red isn’t nearly as into Star Wars as Kevin is.

 

Craig found them repulsive.

 

He knew that if Tweek were here, the two of them would also have a matching set of stupid ears. But he didn’t want to think about it.

 

They went on a Hollywood studio tour that Craig found lame mainly because he didn’t care about any of the show or movie sets showcased. They also went to Hollywood itself, which Craig found as skeevy as all get out. They went to all the different beaches like Laguna, Huntington, Malibu. None of them interested him. And if had to see Red and Kevin take one more coupley picture on the beach for her Instagram he was going to puke.

 

Kevin tried to talk to him about space, given their mutual interest in it, but Craig just couldn't. Kevin was in way too deep. He just couldn't bring himself to care about every single bit of Star Trek trivia. He loved Star Wars, but he didn't want to hear a long analysis on why some obscure Old EU novel series from twenty years ago was his favorite part of Star Wars lore. He couldn't take it.

 

He wondered how the hell he and Red worked together. He was a very smart nerd who wore simple clothing unless he was cosplaying or LARPing. She wasn't a huge nerd, she was more into weird psuedo-gothic fashion, makeup tutorials, and keeping an aesthetic instagram blog with a quitzillion followers. He was a low energy sort of guy who would drone for hours and hours about his favorite franchises until you wanted to punch him. She was the very likable, upbeat socialite that everyone loved. Sure, she worked space into her purple somewhat-edgy aesthetic and he didn't doubt she enjoyed Star Wars, but he really didn't get how the hell they were compatible. How the hell they were still going for years while he and Tweek weren't.

 

Even as stupid as Bebe and Clyde or Stan and Wendy were, at least they made actual fucking sense. Clyde and Bebe were both into fun and being stupid together. He was pretty sure Clyde originally only dated her because she was hot and Bebe was into him because his dad owned a shoe store, but he knew that their compatible personalities made them stay together. Clyde went through a girl almost every week it seemed in middle and early high school, but once he got with Bebe in junior year they lasted it out, by far his longest relationship.

 

Stan and Wendy were less obvious, but still made sense once Craig figured it out. Wendy was smart and involved and into every political movement possible while Stan was very much not. He wondered how Wendy could deal with his apathy or how Stan could deal with her activism, but then when he saw Kyle and Wendy protest together it all made sense. Stan hooked up with the female version of his best friend. Anyway, it was all over now, given that the couple were going to school in different parts of the country.

 

Yet Red and Kevin were an absolute mystery. They were the last two people Craig would expect to be together, with widely different interests and personalities, yet there they were. Standing on the beach, her etsy-made handknit bikini clad body pressed into his own stormtrooper swimtrunk wearing body as she took a selfie with her bejeweled selfie stick. After she checked it out and posted it, she kissed him firmly on the lips, foot popping like in the movies. They ran into the water splashing each other like in some shitty summer B-movie. When they were done, they emerged from the ocean together, holding hands and collapsing in the sand. She built a sandcastle on top of him. He wrote "Kevin <3 Rebecca" in the sand.

 

Absolutely disgusting.

 

“I liked you and Tweek more,” Tricia said, flipping through her phone on the beach. Craig wasn’t sure if he should be mad or grateful towards her for that comment. He never thought he would be that happy to get back to South Park.

 

* * *

 

“Why don’t you like Disneyland? Disneyland is the shit dude!” Clyde exclaimed after he got back. They were at Token’s house, playing a new video game that Craig was honestly uninterested in. He mainly decided to go out of obligation, figuring that in just a few more weeks they would never be able to do this anymore, with Token and Jimmy going to different parts of the country for college. It was a weird feeling, knowing that they had done this since their ages were in the single digits, only now to be spread hundreds of miles apart indefinitely.

 

That made him far more emotional than graduation. Not that he would admit it to those assholes.

 

“Disneyland is for little kids and obnoxious couples. You and Bebe are two for two, you guys should go” Craig replied as he killed Clyde’s in-game character.

 

“What the fuck, why did you friendly fire me?” Clyde complained.

 

“‘ _And obnoxious couples’_ , Craig have you _seriously_ still not called Tweek, dude?” Token groaned, rolling his eyes. He friendly fired Clyde’s character as soon as he revived just for the hell of it.

 

“Dickwads,” Clyde whined.

 

“No and I’m _never_ going to call that fucking asshole,” Craig answered. His tone was even, but his fingers pressed into the playstation controller buttons aggressively.

 

“So what, are you literally going to go your whole life never talking to him again?” Token sighed.

 

“Yep, that’s the plan.”

 

“You know, Bebe and I dated in elementary school and then broke up. We went _years_ without dating, and now look at us? Back together. So you know it could happen to you.”

 

“No one cares about your dumb fucking relationship with Bebe, Clyde,” Craig scoffed. He figured it was a normal Craig-like thing for him to say, but apparently it hit a nerve.

 

“Yeah well no one in this fucking world is going to deal with your bullshit but him, so if you don’t wanna die alone maybe you should reconsider,” Clyde snapped, a twinge of anger in his voice, “Oh wait, _he_ broke up with _you,_ right? Even he got fucking sick of your goddamn attitude.”

 

“F-Fellas, calm down,” Jimmy interjected. Jimmy was the one person who didn’t bother him about Tweek. He would always make jokes about them breaking up when they were together, but once they ended it, he knew to back off. He liked Jimmy.

 

“Fuck you Clyde, you’re the one who was going on about how I was a model fucking boyfriend that that Tweek was lucky to have me.”

 

“You might have been a good boyfriend, but you’re kind of a really shitty person.”

 

“Clyde, Craig, knock it off,” Token yelled.

 

“So are you saying I _deserved_ to have my boyfriend of eight years dump me on prom night?” Craig stood up, no longer paying attention to the game, letting the controller drop from his hand onto the sofa.

 

“You know, I thought you didn’t. I thought Tweek was kind of a spazzy weirdo who clung to you because he knew no one else would take him and that he knew you were a good thing handed to him. But you know what, it probably goes both ways. You’re an awful fucking friend and person who takes and takes but never gives anything in return.”

 

Craig didn’t care about what Clyde said about his own character, because he knew he was probably right. “You don’t know _anything_ about Tweek!”

 

“Why do you care? I thought you weren’t ever going to talk to him again? For someone who doesn’t care, you sure do lose your fucking shit whenever people say the slightest negative thing about him.”

 

Clyde got him. He was usually an idiot, but this time he got him. Goddammit.

 

Craig picked up the game controller, sat back on the sofa,  and got back into the game.

 

“Fine,” Craig said, his voice annoyed but more subdued, “It’s not that I don’t like him anymore.”

 

Clyde had a satisfactory smile that pissed Craig off, but it soon vanished as he devoted his attention back to the video game.

 

“It’s just that I don’t want…”

 

Jimmy and Token were also fully immersed in the game, ignoring him. But he knew they were listening. All three of them were. It was their own way of letting Craig speak his mind without feeling put on the spot. Craig knew what they were doing and it pissed him off but he always fell for their trap.

 

“...I know he won’t take me back, okay? So I don’t…I just...”

 

No, he couldn’t say it. The other three boys continued to play, silently waiting for the response he couldn’t give.

 

“You don’t want to get hurt again,” Token eventually added after a few minutes, when it was clear Craig had nothing more to say.

 

“Yeah.”

 

If it were any other topic, his friends would have ragged on him. Maybe made fun of him for finally showing an emotion. But they didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: You can also see my headcanon for why Craig's hair changes color throughout the show and also doesn't make genetic sense in relation to his family. The adoption headcanon is good idea and one I would consider exploring in a different fic, but normally I headcanon him as being their biological son.
> 
> I'm grateful for all the support this story has gotten so far! It means a lot to me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concept of being in a relationship hadn’t really been his biggest concern. That is, until he got into one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this chapter would be the longest but it ended up getting too long to the extent that I decided to cut it in half. The rest of it is essentially finished and just needs to be edited a little more. It'll likely be up in day or two.
> 
> I just wanna also say that it's hard for me to write them in elementary school because I don't want to make them sound like teens but on the other hand in the show itself they sound exactly like teens nowadays.

At ten years old, Tweek got his first boyfriend.

 

At ten, Tweek was too young to have really dwelled on his orientation. He figured he was straight because that’s what society normalized. He never admitted to anyone his fantasies of being rescued like a fairytale princess. It was too embarrassing. Yet, thinking back, he realized he never imagined a  _ princess _ rescuing him. He also didn’t ever really picture  _ himself _ as a girl. It was as if that part of his fantasies were always unintentionally vague. He never really noticed girls, even if he figured he'd end up with one. That is,  _ if  _ he ended up with someone. He usually figured he’d probably end up alone.

 

The idea of being gay was scary for him. Terrifying. He didn’t want another reason for people to constantly stare at him. He didn’t want to be more of a disappointment to his parents. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t question his sexuality before rumors about him being gay started to speculate. He did. He never could understand the other boys’ obsession with the girls, to the extent that it did make him wonder if he even liked girls in passing a few times. He didn’t want to start wondering how thinking about how boys would feel to him, though. It was too much pressure for him, especially sober.

 

To be honest, dating wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He had other worries. A lot of other worries. Like how he had been drinking drugged coffee for a full year now. His father had finally been able to perfectly ration the cups in a way that would be passable to the general public. It worked. People still said their coffee was terrible, but it made them crave more and more. Business was better than ever, eventually driving out Harbucks for good.

 

It wasn’t enough for Tweek though.

 

He was always skinny, but now he looked like a skeleton, save his perpetually bloated stomach. The meth heavily suppressed his appetite while he was under its direct influence, then leading to binge eating once he faced withdrawal, much of which he couldn’t keep down. He wasn’t sure if it was the diet or the substance, but his stomach was so more painful than ever before, making him grow to resent food.

 

His face looked sunken, his eyes contained dark black pools beneath them. His skin had gotten unnaturally pale, red marks and scabs sprinkling his skin from where he picked at himself. Even if he stopped picking at himself, his complexion was still terrible. The faculty at school didn't seem to notice, they were too busy with their own problems and the school counselor, Mr. Mackey, was essentially useless. It was a tragic year: their original teacher passed away followed by their beloved cafeteria chef.  Their third grade teacher, Mr. Garrison, stepped into the role for a while, and he was the last person to care about students' issues. He was eventually expelled for racism, leading them to get a new teacher yet  _ again _ , Ms. Nelson.

 

Ms. Nelson was a very kind, educated Asian woman who did have concern for her students. She question Tweek’s appearance and demeanor at first, as well as bringing up his list of absences. A few times she’d call him after class, asking him if he wanted to talk about anything. She even called Tweek’s family a couple of times, but his parents brushed it off, telling her to stop worrying about him. Still, she tried to persist, convincing Tweek to try and take up a new hobby and talking his parents into getting him into piano lessons to try and make him feel happy for once. He liked piano but he liked his coffee more.

 

It was really only the coffee made him feel great. Like maybe he actually  _ was _ attractive. He was never able to recreate the first feeling he had. In fact, each time the high became lesser and lesser while the lows got greater and greater. It became more than Tweek could stand. Not being able to sleep for weeks, afraid of his own shadow,  _ seeing _ things,  _ hearing _ things. It was absolutely terrifying for the fourth grader. He tried funneling his attention to the piano, but it only slightly worked as an outlet.

 

He wondered if it would all change if he got as much as he had the first time. Maybe even more. Every time he went on runs to Kenny’s house, he considered stealing some of the contents for himself. He probably would, if he knew how to prepare it.

 

He did know he was being drugged by now. Kenny had been who first told him and at first he vehemently refused to believe it, claiming that Kenny was just trying to scare him. Nevertheless, after about a full year he had started to accept the truth. He had no real plans to fix this, not knowing if he even physically  _ could _ .

 

So for obvious reasons, the concept of being in a relationship hadn’t really been his biggest concern. That is, until he got into one.

 

The boy was Craig Tucker. A classmate of his that, while they hadn’t been the best of friends, he did often find himself occasionally associating with his group. He knew they all didn’t really consider him a fifth member of their group, but they tolerated his presence and it allowed Tweek to imagine that he could fit in.

 

Craig, Clyde, Token, and Jimmy were all relatively normal boys. Jimmy was physically disabled, yet he was one of the most liked and most charismatic boys in class. Token almost gave him a posh vibe, with his extreme intelligence and wealthy and educated family background. Clyde was your typical class idiot and amused Tweek quite a lot.

 

Craig...Craig, he never really got at the time. In the third grade, the two of them had gotten in a fight once. Craig supposedly said terrible things about him and wanted to beat him up, and Tweek was in a particular state that gave him the confidence that he could win. In the end, neither of them did. He gave Craig a black eye while Craig managed to leave a big bruise by his cheekbone. And yet, the following week Craig seemed to not care that it ever happened. With his eye still blackened, he greeted him with a “Hey Tweek.” In a weird way, that acknowledgement of his existence was what led him to try and fifth wheel in his group as much as possible.

 

There was something about Craig that was an enigma to him, that fascinated him. He felt like he should distrust him, but he didn’t. Almost like Craig was too aloof to deceive anyone.

 

For a while, Tweek wondered if he wanted to  _ be _ Craig. Craig was widely said by the girls to be the most attractive boy in class. He was an asshole, but unlike a lot of the other boys in class, there was a real charisma behind it. He would always say what he thought but never what he felt. He was constantly in control of his emotions, appearing cool and collected. Everything Tweek was not.

 

In hindsight, it should have been obvious that he had a crush on him. Perhaps it was to everyone else. Perhaps it was Tweek’s blatant crush that led to the rumors they were a couple.

 

At first Tweek and Craig both denied it. Tweek didn’t want to deal with all the stress of being gay on top of a probably-addict at only ten years old. Plus, he always thought of a relationship as something that would be stressful. Something scary, something that would put him on edge.  _ Especially _ with someone as blunt and aloof as Craig Tucker.

 

Yet with Craig, he  _ didn’t  _ feel scared. He felt  _ safe.  _ Maybe it was his aloof nature that made him less threatening. Maybe he was so desperate to have someone to hang onto. He didn’t care, i felt right to him.

 

When Craig took his hand as an act of a public display of affection, Tweek didn’t know what he should think. Craig’s hands felt very warm against his own that felt like ice. Craig held on tightly but not  _ too  _ tightly, not looking Tweek in the face. It frightened Tweek at first, fearing that he was disinterested in him. That is, until he saw that it was because he was  _ blushing. _

 

They were only ten, but something in Tweek felt that this relationship was meaningful beyond their years.

 

Tweek wasn’t made fun of like other boys in their class like Butters Stotch. Yet despite the ridicule, Butters was often invited to things. Tweek was not. He would often hear the other students discuss parties from the previous weekend, sleepovers, going to each other’s houses to play video games. He used to be invited to things, but slowly the invitations faded.

 

It was more like he had been forgotten.

 

His relationship with Craig changed things. Craig would invite him over to play video games, and while Tweek wasn’t a big gamer he would love to watch Craig play for hours on end. Craig found out that Tweek could play piano and would ask him to play for him. Tweek tried to help teach Craig a few things he learned, only to find out that Craig had no natural ability for music. Craig insisted that Tweek did, that Tweek was actually super talented and should stick with it.

 

Craig was a popular boy, even outside of his main small circle of friends. When Craig was invited to things by the other boys, as he so often was, at first he would go alone without Tweek. However, as time passed Craig would ask for Tweek to be included. After a while, it was like inviting one of them came with the assumption that they were inviting both of them. Tweek was able to feel like one of the boys again.

 

The two weren’t a perfect couple, of course.

 

At first, whenever Tweek had a panic attack, Craig wouldn’t know what to do. In the beginning, logical as ever yet still an emotionally immature ten year old, Craig would simply tell him to calm down. When that didn’t work, Craig simply decided to ignore it; to let Tweek blow off steam on his own. It frustrated Tweek. It hurt Tweek.

 

The idea of Craig leaving him for it, at that age, didn’t really occur to him. Craig knew his quirks, everyone did. If Craig wanted to date him, he had to be able to deal with him. If he wanted him at his best, he should be able to accept his worst. As much as Tweek lacked self confidence, he wasn’t the type to hang onto people out of desperation. He wanted someone who could deal with him, who could truly want  _ him _ for who he was. It was either that or no one at all for him. 

 

And eventually, Craig  _ did  _ get better. He learned how to talk Tweek through his anxieties, how to properly comfort him. Tweek realized that Craig didn’t mess up with him because he didn’t care, but because it was because Craig had issues of his own dealing with people. Craig Tucker, the stoic hardass, had actual difficulties connecting with people, with sharing his feelings.

 

Sure, he was very clingy. He would always want to hold hands, put his arm around Tweek’s shoulder. He would give Tweek pet names like “Babe” or “Honey” even at the young age of ten. Yet, Tweek soon found out that Craig was doing so not because it was easy but because he too was desperate for meaningful human interaction. He always came across as an uncaring asshole to most of their classmates, but Tweek realized that that wasn’t who he really was. Craig was thought of as unfeeling, but in reality, underneath it all, he was just a ten year old kid who always bottled everything up. 

 

In the same way Tweek needed Craig, Craig needed Tweek. In the same way Tweek feared his inability to control himself would distance himself from others would alienate him from everyone else, Craig felt the same way in the opposite respect. Although Tweek couldn’t tell Craig about his entire life, they were able to emotionally connect to one another, both shattering their walls to each other, both trying to help each other.

 

When Craig noticed Tweek was going through a bad phase, (in reality onset by Tweek going over a week without sleep,) Craig wanting to help his nerves, invited him to sleep over at his house for the first time so that he didn’t have to be alone. The Tuckers allowed sleepovers. That is, as long as they slept in sleeping bags in the living room. Regardless, the idea of staying at Craig’s house for the night terrified ten year old Tweek. At the same time, he wanted to more than anything.

 

_ “He probably wants to hurt you,”  _ a shadow person told him. The shadow people were a frequent part of his life, always tormenting him. He tried to shut them out, to ignore them, but found it exceedingly difficult. Tweek knew that they could be telling the truth, but he wanted to believe Craig. He wanted to believe his interpreation of their relationship was he truth.

 

“Make sure you sleep five feet apart,” Tweek’s father winked at him before he went, which made Tweek groan. His father loved to play up his and Craig’s relationship to a weirdly invasive level. He never really cared about Tweek’s wellbeing before. It was also already seven on the Friday night, part of Tweek wondered if it was already too late to bother going. His mother had packed up a bag for him, carrying his pajamas, his toothbrush, a change of clothes, and a canister of coffee.He didn’t own a sleeping bag, but the Tuckers said they had an extra. His mother was thankfully the only one taking him; he didn’t want to deal with his father’s comments further.

 

Once he arrived, Craig’s father answered the door. He was a very tall and large man that, based on appearance, always frightened Tweek. He didn’t initially approve of their relationship, giving Tweek glares as if he changed his son. Now, however, he seemed to have changed his mind, and opened the door and immediately gave Tweek a big hug, smothering him.

 

“Dad, you’ll kill him,” Tweek heard Craig call out, coming down the stairs. He was already in his pajamas, his hair messy with hat hair.

 

“Thank you for letting my son stay,” Tweek’s mother smiled, handing over the bag. Mr. Tucker invited her in, but she politely declined, opting to leave as soon as possible to get back to the coffee shop. Tweek’s parents did like to socialize with the other parents, but coffee business always outweighed all else with them.

 

“Oh Tweek, I thought I heard you come in,” Mrs. Tucker emerged from the other room, coming in arms open to hug Tweek. She was a very beautiful, very tall woman. She had long blonde hair but her face had a striking resemblance to her son.

 

“Dude, can you two leave him alone,” Craig groaned.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Tweek answered meekly, his voice short from being squeezed. He was telling the truth. The way Craig’s parents treated him gave him a warm feeling his own never did.

 

“We had a little to eat earlier,” Mrs. Tucker said letting him go but otherwise ignoring her son, “But we didn’t have a lot because we weren’t sure if you had dinner yet.”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Tweek answered, “But uh...I’m not hungry.” He wasn’t. He hadn’t eaten for maybe two or three days but he didn’t want to. His stomach burned and felt like an overblown balloon and the idea of eating sickened him.

 

“Nonsense,” she poked his nose, “I can order pizza. What type do you like?”

 

“Oh, no really it’s fine,” Tweek raised his hands up defensively. He  _ also  _ didn’t want to be a nuisance.

 

“She’s not gonna let it go, so you might as well say what you want,” Craig offered.

 

“Oh uh  _ gosh _ uh...pepperoni?” Tweek stammered. He remembered eating Chef’s pepperoni pizza in first and second grade and had a fond memory of it and he hadn’t recalled ever trying any other type of pizza, always gravitating towards it at birthday parties. Chef’s was the best though. Chef was always so nice to him, always putting extra food on his tray claiming he needed to put more meat on his bones. Chef was also dead now.

 

“Great! Craig likes pepperoni too!” she smiled sweetly, turning away to the kitchen, “Craig, can you go ask Tricia what type of pizza she wants?”

 

“Why don’t you?”

 

“Craig, listen to your mother,” Mr. Tucker gently swatted his shoulder. Not at all like how he saw Mr. McCormick shove his son. It was an annoyed swat, but not one full of malice or something to be afraid of.

 

“Goddammit,  _ PATRICIA!!!”  _ Craig yelled.

 

“Craig, go UP to her!  _ I  _ could have yelled,” his mother rolled her eyes. Craig rolled his eyes back and marched up the stairs. Mr. Tucker, acting as though it was normal interaction not worth commenting on, wandered off into the kitchen.

 

After they both disappeared, Mrs. Tucker leaned over, getting more on Tweek’s level. “I hope he doesn’t talk to you nearly the way he talks to us. I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy sometimes.”

 

“N-No! He doesn’t. He’s very nice to me.”

 

Craig marched back down the stairs, sister following him, both bickering about something.

 

“She wants cheese,” he called, before they reached the living room again.

 

“No I DON’T” Tricia protested, grabbing him from by the shirt collar, her lower height yanking him down, “I want supreme! It’s Craig’s own fault he’s so picky!”

 

“You don’t even like half the shit on supreme pizza,” Craig countered, “You always pick everything off and then complain about it.”

 

“No I don’t!”

 

“Tricia, how about we get a mushroom-sausage pizza?” their mother interjected, “That’s what you like on it, right?”

 

“Whatever,” she gruffed, shoving past her brother to go back upstairs.

 

Mrs. Tucker sighed as went and ordered the pizzas, two larges. Mr. Tucker called the two boys into the kitchen, asking for them to help him make a salad to go with it. Tweek had never made a salad before and found cutting the vegetables scary, so Craig let Tweek be the one to mix it all up as he and his father did the cutting.

 

After they were done, Tweek saw that  Tricia had come back downstairs and helped her mother set up the table with paper plates and plastic utensils--something Tweek’s own family never used. Craig also was asked to go grab one of the bags of chips from the pantry his mother claimed were bought for their sleepover.

 

When the pizza arrived about thirty minutes later they all sat around the dining room table, Craig and Tricia fighting over who got the chips first. Mr. Tucker handed over a big piece of pepperoni over to Tweek.

 

Tweek’s family never ordered pizza. They only had generic food like unseasoned chicken, salted vegetables, mashed potatoes, etc. Even the freshly made salad by Craig and him was more exciting than most meals he ever had at home. Still, he had no appetite. His stomach protested, but he forced himself to eat a piece of pizza. It was easier for him to eat the salad knowing that it had come from the efforts of Craig and him.

 

When they were finally done, Mrs. Tucker asked her two children to go find the sleeping bags (to which Tricia protested given that it had nothing to do with her) and Mr. Tucker had to go take a shower. She requested Tweek help her clean up.

 

“You must think our family is totally dysfunctional,” she laughed.

 

Tweek blinked.

 

“I wish my family could be like yours.”

 

She gave a small sympathetic smile, “You are our family now.”

 

By nine thirty, the boys had lights out. Tweek had thrown up most of what he ate. He had perfected the art of throwing up quietly enough for the Tuckers not to notice. The sleeping bags were spread on the living room floor but the two boys instead found themselves instead sitting on the couch, Craig’s arm around Tweek’s shoulder.

 

“Are you alright, Tweek?” Craig asked, “I saw you were crying earlier. Did my mom do something?”

 

“No!” Tweek protested louder than he should have, “I was happy!”

 

“Happy? With what?” Craig sounded extremely confused. Unlike Tweek, Craig would always complain about his family. How his mom would nag him too much, how his sister was obnoxious, how he had to deal with his redneck uncle always coming by asking for money. He never got the impression that they were bad to him, however. His father had cut him off for a good week after it was found out that Craig was gay, refusing to even look at him. Yet even then, his father sat down and apologized to him. His father actively recognized his mistakes and tried to make things better. Something that Tweek’s own father would  _ never  _ do.

 

He still was wary about how much he could confide in Craig. He definitely wouldn’t tell him about how he was probably drugged by his parents. He could never tell him that. That was the  _ last _ thing he could tell him! But everything else? His sleep patterns, his anxieties? He’s already told him that. Yet he tried his best to also stay away from talk of his family in general. 

 

“My family,” Tweek swallowed, figuring out how to phrase it, “It isn’t like yours. We don’t do things like...joke or help make salad or order pizza.” Craig’s body shifted, loosening up on his grip, not expecting that answer.

 

“Well, what do you do?” Craig asked finally. His voice was calm and collected, inviting Tweek to open up to him.

 

“We--We worry about the coffee business. My family has me work it most of my free time, i-in the storeroom. It’s really lonely. Our family has family dinner, but we don’t really... _ talk _ during it. They don’t listen to me or ask me what  _ I  _ want ever. It’s just, ‘Oh Tweek, you’re going to have to take off school to work in the storeroom’ or ‘Oh Tweek, make sure you drink all your coffee.’”

 

“Do they hurt you?”

 

“What? Oh god, I mean. I mean, they don’t ever  _ hit  _ me but they--They don’t really hug me, either. My mom did when I was younger, but not with the enthusiasm and emotion that your parents do. It’s not that they  _ hurt _ me, it’s that they--”

 

“Neglect you?”

 

Tweek couldn’t think of an answer. He just buried his head into Craig’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around him.

 

“Tweek,” Craig hugged him back tighter, “My family is here for you.   _ I’m  _ here for you. Even my brat sister is here for you. You gotta know, that, okay?” He broke the hug to smile at him.

 

“Okay.”

 

Tweek wished he could say that for the first time in a week he was able to sleep soundly. He couldn’t. Yet, he could say that was able to sit far more peacefully through the night watching Craig lay soundly asleep, his coffee canister almost completely untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for over 1000 hits and 100 kudos!!! It means a lot to me that people are actually reading this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek was hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is what is technically part two of the last chapter. Somehow, even after being split, it is still the longest chapter so far by a decent margin.
> 
> I can't believe I'm already on chapter 9 of this story! The next two chapters are written but have to undergo significant editing and I'm not sure exactly when they'll come out, as I might be getting more busy again. I'll try to update at least once a week, though!

The next day Tweek decided that he knew what he had to do.

 

His mother picked him up bright and early while all of Tweek’s family said their goodbyes to him as if he was their own family. His mother asked him how it was, if Craig and him behaved appropriately, but Tweek was only able to give basic yes and no answers. His mother didn’t seem to expect more detailed responses, however, and answered with a simple “That’s nice.”

 

His mother merely dropped him off at their house, she claimed she had to work all day in the coffee shop. Tweek frequently had to work on weekends, but his mother said that he could have the day off, that he must be too tired to work after a sleepover.

 

Tweek didn’t try to sleep though. He could feel the withdrawal rising in him, threatening a crash, but before it did he had somewhere to go. Instead of even going inside to his own house, he waited for his mom’s car to fade in the distance and walked down the South Park roads to his destination.

 

“Tweek, what are you doing here? You don’t have a delivery today,” a pajama-wearing Kenny asked, answering his door. Kenny seemed tired and Tweek could tell he had only recently woken up. Still, Tweek was determined.

 

“I need your help.”

 

“ _ My  _ help?” Kenny raised an eyebrow. He spoke in a hushed voice, making Tweek aware that the rest of his family was probably still asleep. They struck Tweek as the type of family who often woke up at noon.

 

“Yes, your help,” Tweek tried to answer quieter.

 

“What would you need my help with?”

 

“You can figure it out” Tweek mumbled, starting to twitch. He was unable to say the word ‘drugs’.

 

Kenny’s expression turned serious, implying that he  _ did _ figure it out. He stood in the doorway, as per norm not offering to let Tweek in, but to Tweek’s gratifaction he didn’t slam the door in his face. Kenny merely sighed, gave a “Give me a second”, and lightly shut the door.

 

Tweek stood and waited. Part of him wondered if Kenny really was going to come back, or if he was hoping Tweek would take some hint and go away. Regardless, Tweek planted his feet on the ground.

 

Minutes passed. Tweek’s anxieties rose, wondering if Kenny really  _ wasn’t _ coming back. Still, Tweek built up his courage and stayed in the same spot, ready to knock on the door. He lifted his hand, ready to pound it on the chipping wood door and--

 

“Let’s take a walk,” Kenny opened the door right before Tweek could knock. Kenny was dressed now with his usual orange parka on, obscuring much of his face. He passed Tweek on the way down the driveway, but Tweek stayed frozen, unsure how he should properly act. “C’mon dude,” Kenny called again. Tweek snapped out of it with a light shriek and ran down to catch up with him.

 

“Where are we going?” he asked, trying to keep up with the other boy’s brisk pace.

 

“The ranch” Kenny responded, his voice muffled by his hood, “Playground’s probably too crowded on Saturday and I don’t want to walk all the way out to Stark’s Pond.”

 

Tweek thought it was an odd spot, not to mention trespassing, but he wasn’t going to argue right now. It was still a relatively long walk, passing back over by the way to Tweek’s own house, but he refused to complain. Kenny didn’t explain himself further or even say anything else at all, he just walked and walked, barely even keeping notice if Tweek was following.

 

“Will the ranchers get mad?” Tweek asked as they finally approached the ranch. It was a relatively large cattle farm run by Carl Denkins. He wasn’t known to take kindly to trespassers, even threatening to shoot them. 

 

“Nah I know a spot,” Kenny explained, “My brother Kevin showed it to me. He used to go there to shoot up before he became too much of a lazy shit to leave the house.”

 

As they arrived, instead of walking directly onto the fields, Kenny took a sharp right near one of the out of use barns. It hadn’t completely rotted away, but it had still been clearly left on its own for at least a decade. It was in an area faced the forest, unseen by any potential farmhands and outside of the newer fence that kept the cattle. Kenny sat himself down against the splintered wood wall and Tweek took the hint to sit beside him.

 

“So you wanted to talk?” Kenny finally asked as he made himself comfortable.

 

“Yeah. I didn’t know we’d have to go all the way out here to do so, though,” Tweek answered, his fingers digging into the unkempt grass nervously.

 

“Tweek, I don’t know if you get it, but you  _ really _ don’t want people to overhear us talking about drug usage. For a lot of reasons.”

 

“I know but--”

 

“Tweek, just accept that you don’t really understand this whole thing,” Kenny interrupted him, “That’s why you came to me, right?”

 

“I-I mean, I guess so?! Oh god,” Tweek worked himself up to a twitchy state again. The word ‘drug’ always hit him hard, immediately ruining his emotional state.

 

“Dude it’s okay,” Kenny reached out and put a hand on Tweek’s shoulder, “But that’s the first rule, as I’ve told you before. You can’t let other people know about this. It would get us and our families in a whole load of trouble.”

 

“Okay,” Tweek responded, trying to take a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how much it helped.

 

“Second of all, the last time I told you that you were doing drugs you flipped out on me and punched me in the face.”

 

“Oh  _ god,  _ man, I’m so sorry!” Tweek broke again. He knew he shouldn’t have come to Kenny, Kenny must still hate him from then! He’s barely talked to Kenny since, avoiding him and his entire house as they made deliveries and only speaking at school when they had to. The anxiety rose in him, leading him to grab his hair and pull, not caring if the dirt from his fingers got in it.

 

“Dude, STOP!” Kenny grabbed Tweek’s hands, trying to stop him from yanking out his hair. Tweek resisted, but Kenny’s strong and unwavering grip on his hands made him let go.

 

“Sorry man, I don’t--I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just flip out and lose control and I want it to stop but I can’t and I’m scared and--”

 

“That’s the drugs,” Kenny interjected, “Or well, drugs heightened it ten fold.”

 

“I’m sorry. Oh man, it’s a lot of pressure to hear that. I know it’s probably the cause, but I...Drugs are terrifying, Kenny! I don’t wanna be an addict!” 

 

“Dude, trust me, I know,” Kenny grabbed Tweek’s shoulders with both hands and looked him directly in the face, “I know what drugs are like. My parents have been druggies since before I was born. My brother is all fucked up from my mom using when she was pregnant with him. I sniffed paint and cat piss thinking it was normal. Drugs have been my entire reality for as long as I can remember. I don’t want either of us to turn into my parents.”

 

“Kenny,” Tweek said slowly, “I mean, are you  _ absolutely _ sure that what I get from your house is also drugs?”

 

“Yes, man,” Kenny responded, breaking eye contact to look at the ground, “It’s a meth lab. The only thing they make in that garage is meth. You do meth, Tweek.”

 

Tweek’s stomach dropped and he could see wetness cloud his vision. “B-But I didn’t  _ choose _ to do drugs!” Tweek tried to break away from Kenny. “I don’t want this! I want out of it!”

 

“Yeah I know, I presumed that’s why you’re here.  It’s fucked up. But look at me Tweek, you have to understand--This isn’t your fucking fault, dude. You didn’t want to, you didn’t  _ choose _ to. You were kinda drugged by your dad.”

 

“I was drugged by my own dad,” Tweek echoed. He never thought of it that bluntly. It pierced him like a knife in his heart. 

 

_ He was drugged by his own father. _

 

The tears that had welled up in his eyes turned into waterfalls. He brought his hands to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, his body shot back against the rotting barn wall hitting his head hard, but not hard enough to care. Kenny let go of him in the process, turning back around to have his back against the wall once more as well. He put a hand on Tweek’s shoulder but didn’t say anything else. He let him cry it out.

 

“What gave you the change of heart?” Kenny asked finally, as Tweek’s sobs lessened. It had been a good five to ten minutes.

 

“Craig,” Tweek sat up straighter, trying to wipe tears from his eyes, “I want to be normal for Craig.”

 

“Quitting hard drugs like meth isn’t easy,” Kenny finally responded, “But I mean a lot of people quit. Maybe not overnight, as quitting completely overnight can be dangerous but...I think you can do it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I’ve seen how you look at Craig, dude,” Kenny allowed himself to a small, sympathetic smile, “I think you could do anything for him.”

 

* * *

 

 

As per Kenny’s advice, Tweek did not attempt to quit cold turkey.

 

He still craved it, he still ran errands, he still could taste it and feel its effects in his coffee. It didn’t really give him the same rush he used to, but being away from it was painful. Yet, despite everything, he knew he must persist. When he’d pass certain parts of the woods, memories of his first time would emerge, calling him back, begging him to try and take more and more to relive it. He started taking an entirely different route to Kenny’s house.

 

His main way of going about trying to quit was to consume less coffee, with the hopes of eventually weaning himself off of it altogether. As fourth grade turned into fifth grade, he started to realize that coffee alone was harmful for him to take at a young age at such heavy usage, even without being infused with meth. 

 

He also had to undergo anti-drug health class. He saw the anti-meth commercials. They frightened him, frightened him of what he could become. Part of him knew that a lot of what was told to him by his teachers or the media was overblown, but that didn’t frighten him any less. He didn’t want his teeth to fall out, he didn’t want to look fourty when he was twenty, he didn’t want to die under a bridge somewhere. He wanted to grow up with all his teeth in his head and live a long life...with Craig.

 

Of course, he was still on meth. He still had days and days of sleepless, foodless nights, he still had bouts of paranoia, bouts of delusions. The shadow people had not gone away, still taunting him and telling him that he could never truly stop.

 

But he had Craig. Craig, who listened to him talk about how the shadow people taunted him. (Of course, without ever mentioning how they were drug-induced.) Craig didn’t seem to judge him for it, simply telling him that they weren’t real and if they ever frightened him that he would always be there for him. Craig also helped keep Tweek included with their fifth grade class, leading Tweek to find himself truly and genuinely belonging in the group alongside Clyde, Token, and Jimmy.

 

Kenny was also there. He helped coach Tweek through his addiction the best he could. He was pretty good, for an 11 year old fifth grader, anyway. He too would sit at the ranch with him for hours as the two discussed their drug related woes. Sometimes Kenny would invite his best friend Butters along. Of course, in those times they censored their talks about Tweek’s drug use, but kept talk about mental health. Tweek also learned that Butters too had an extremely messed up childhood, with abusive parents.

 

Tweek joked that Kenny had a hero complex and liked to rescue people. Kenny simply smiled and said he was glad Tweek was finally cracking jokes.

 

Fifth grade was also the year he had his first kiss. It was recess on Valentine’s day. Craig and him had been going out for over a year, and all the other students dared them to kiss. It was awkward and fast and kind of embarrassing, but Craig quickly pecked Tweek on the mouth hard enough to hurt his teeth. They both turned bright red, Craig claimed he had to go to the bathroom to get space by himself, but still Tweek found himself eternally grateful that he was able to share his first kiss with him.

 

Tweek was hopeful.

 

* * *

 

 

Fifth grade turned to sixth. Tweek was terrified that middle school was going to change everything. They had multiple classes now instead of a single teacher, Craig and him only sharing half of them. They were older now, about to undergo puberty. People change in middle school, people break up.

 

The shadow people reminded him that elementary school romances never last.

 

“Do you think we’ll grow apart?” Tweek asked Craig towards the end of summer break. They were at the city pool, sharing a raft, allowing themselves to gently float for hours. It was a Sunday morning, most of South Park was at church, so they had the pool to themselves, free from obnoxious toddlers that would splash them and invade their peace. Tweek’s mother chaperoned, sitting and reading some home and garden magazine out of earshot.

 

“No way dude,” Craig gave one of his rare laughs, causing the raft to shake gently, “You worry way too much, dude.”

 

“Elementary school romances don’t last,” Tweek echoed what the shadow people said to him.

  
“Stan and Wendy have lasted, and we’re a lot better than them,” Craig retorted.

 

“They’re not in middle school yet, either.”

 

Craig sighed, his laughter gone, “Tweek, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. We’ve had fights and said we were going to break up--maybe that’s going to happen again because we’re dumb--but I think...”

 

Tweek could feel Craig’s face go hot against his shoulder. Tweek looked over and could  see that he was turning red.

 

“What do you think, Craig?”

 

“I just think...Well,” Craig stumbled, turning into the embarrassed mess Tweek found adorable, “I think we’re probably meant for each other.”

 

Hearing Craig speak his true, emotional feelings was a rarity, one that always overcame Tweek with joy. A joy that he was able to feel more and more the longer he distanced himself from drugs that had taken his ability to feel without them.

 

He rolled over on the raft to hug his boyfriend, knocking them both into the water.

 

* * *

 

 

Craig was right about middle school.

 

Tweek was healthier looking than he ever had been. His hair was cut a few inches shorter and looked far more maintained. He managed to keep his clothes ironed and properly buttoned. His skin had more of a glow to it than he had before. He was still thin, but more in line with a healthy weight. The sores on his skin slowly faded away and the shadow people rarely bothered him anymore.

 

With the help of Kenny, they slowly began to replace the contents of brown bags with other useless substances like rock candy and sugar. Very gradually so that his father would never notice, but by the time seventh grade rolled around, he would completely throw away the pick up and instead return with a drug-free bag. In order to further disguise the bags, Kenny and him learned they could leave the bags with rotten eggs. I was still gross, but they didn’t rub off that much onto the fakes in terms of taste. He was also finally able to drink coffee freely again, in moderation, knowing that it was clean and finally age-appropriate.

 

He also had his first  _ real _ kiss with Craig. It was at one of Eric Cartman’s sleepovers, completely unprompted by anyone else. Tweek, who still didn’t get normal amounts of sleep had wandered upstairs to get a glass of water, to which Craig unbeknowingly followed him. 

 

“Can’t sleep either, babe?” Craig asked, making him yelp out of surprise.

 

“Don’t surprise me like that,” Tweek scolded, “And yeah, you know...I don’t really sleep.”

 

“But now we get time alone,” Craig said, trying to sound as flirty as possible. In actuality he sounded awkward, but Tweek found it cute. He was also right, they didn’t really get as much time alone anymore. Since middle school and beginnings of puberty, they were no longer allowed to have sleepovers with the two of them and dates were to be chaperoned, leading them to not have them at all. There was even some debate over whether they were allowed to even attend sleepovers with each other, but Mrs. Tucker finally conceded that not allowing such would force one or both of them to be excluded from larger parties.

 

“You’re right,” Tweek smiled at his boyfriend in the dark kitchen only dimly lit by the stove clock.

 

“I know we’re always together, but I-I miss you,” Craig’s flirtatious tone faltered, turning straight into flustered. Still, he pulled Tweek in, wrapping his arms around his lower back.

 

The old Tweek would have flipped out. But this was the cleaner, healthier Tweek. “I’ve missed you, too.”

 

Craig’s one arm left Tweek, and slowly and shakily raised to Tweek’s face, caressing his cheek. He paused for a moment, then leaned in and kissed Tweek directly on the mouth. Unlike the quick, somewhat painful dare kiss, this time Craig took his time and went slow and soft. It was very clear that neither of them had experience kissing, but regardless it felt  _ right. _

 

Sure, they had their arguments. Craig wanted to ditch the school dance, while Tweek wanted to stay and experience the normal middle school experience. Craig wanted to seem cool and tough and better than it all, while Tweek was basking in the ability to finally pass as somewhat normal. They’d get into long arguments over petty things, but none of that really mattered to Tweek.

 

He was still socially anxious. He was still jittery. He knew that he would never be magically cured from his mental illnesses. But he was better, he was happy. He had Craig. They weren’t perfect, but they were still perfect enough for him.

 

* * *

 

 

Eighth grade was another story. Craig and him only shared one class together, a science class. They were both busy with their lives and had even less time to be in contact with one another.

 

Tweek tried not to think that deeply into it. Eighth grade was a busy year, preparing them for high school. Once they got there, they could fall back into rhythm until they had to start preparing for college. Rinse and repeat.

 

After the first quarter, however, Tweek did put his foot down.

 

“You’re not paying nearly enough attention to our relationship,” he protested to Craig during the lunchline.

 

“Babe, you know I’m busy,” Craig groaned in protest.

 

“Too busy to date me?” Tweek meant it as a half-joke, but Craig didn’t seem to find it funny.

 

“What the hell dude, of course not,” Craig raised his voice a little too much, leading to the other people in line to turn and stare at him. He paused, waiting for them to turn back around before he continued in a loud-whisper, “I just have a lot of shit to do. You know I’m placed in Algebra and it fucking sucks. It’s not that I’m not wanting to be with you it’s just that there’s a lot of shit going on right now. Most of it is fucking boring studying bullshit and  _ believe me _ , I would much rather be with you.”

 

“Then why don’t we study together,” Tweek prompted, “We have Earth Science together.”

 

They both reached the checkout and walked towards their table, shared with Clyde, Token, and Jimmy.

 

“Alright,” Craig added just before he got to the table, “How about we study every Wednesday at my place after school?”

 

“Dude, you  _ know _ I have to work Wednesdays,” Tweek protested.

 

“Woah, are you two fighting?” Clyde popped in.

 

“No, Tweek’s just having a bout of jealousy, and the jealousy is over my textbooks I have to study. You know, to not fail.”

 

“Clyde, are you still dating Annie?” Tweek asked, ignoring Craig’s snide comment.

 

“Yeah, unless she said something I don’t know about,” Clyde responded, his mouth full of mushy cafeteria french fries. 

 

“How often do you two hang out?” Tweek added.

 

“We try to hang out several times a week after school and then on weekends if neither of us have other plans.”

 

“Dude, that’s not fair,” Craig interjected, “Clyde is failing basically every class.”

 

“I am not! Just because I got a D in two classes on my progress report doesn’t mean I’m failing!”

 

“Whatever you say, flunkie.”

 

“H-How often do you tw-two hang out?” Timmy added to the conversation, trying to offer advice.

 

“All the time!” Craig protested, “We see each other every day at lunch and in science class every Tuesday-Thursday. That’s like seven times a week!”

 

“Dude that’s not enough if you’re dating,” Clyde laughed.

 

“Says the person who hasn’t had a relationship last longer than a month to the person going five years strong.”

 

“Craig, I gotta say I side with Tweek on this one,” Token piped in, “Lunch is with  _ all of us _ and your science class is a class, not a romantic dinner date.”

 

“Ye-Yeah, Token’s right. Y-You’re k-kinda being a shitty b-boyfriend.”

 

“Fucking goddammit,  _ fine _ ,” Craig admitted defeat, “How about Mondays for studying?”

 

“That should be fine. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Tuckers didn’t mind them staying in Craig’s room to study as long as the door was open. Tweek hadn’t been over at Craig’s house in months, so the Tuckers were more than overjoyed to see him, hugging him tightly as they always did. He loved how they accepted him like a second son.

 

Tricia made a backhanded compliment about how she was glad to see him, that she was afraid they were done for good.

 

Craig hadn’t really shown any true interest in him lately, it was true. Sure, they had kissed a small handful of other times, mainly quick ones in the hallway, but part of Tweek’s anxiety rose. He had always taken Craig’s attitude for granted, but maybe he  _ was  _ tired of him.

 

It hurt.

 

Craig took his hand, ignoring his sister’s comment and wordlessly led him to his room, and signaled for Tweek to sit on his bed. As per his parents request, the door stayed open, but Craig checked outside to make sure his parents and sister weren’t near.

 

“I’m sorry,” Craig said. His face had broke his normal stoicness and looked genuinely upset. He walked over to Tweek and bent over, grabbing his face and kissing him lightly.

 

“It’s okay dude,” Tweek said instinctively, his face feeling hot from the kiss.

 

“No it’s not,” Craig sat down next to Tweek, his warm hands grabbing Tweek’s cold ones, “The guys are right. I have been an extremely shitty boyfriend.”

 

Tweek leaned in, this time he being the one to initiate a kiss. “I remember right before middle school you said that you thought we would last,” Tweek said as he broke away, “That we might fight because we’re stupid, but that we were meant for each other.”

 

“I guess this has been one of those stupid times, huh?” Craig smirked. He kissed Tweek once more, and then kissed him on his forehead near his hairline. “I promise I’ll put forth more effort, okay? I’m sorry it took everyone calling me out to realize it.”

 

“I love you, Craig,” Tweek broke his head away from Craig’s mouth to hug him. Craig gasped slightly, but hugged him back even tighter. It was the first time Tweek spoke those words.

 

They did study, but they quickly got bored. Earth Science was an extraordinarily boring subject.

 

Tweek ended up looking idley through a textbook when Craig suddenly plopped his head on Tweek’s lap. His boyfriend resting on him was too distracting, so he put the book aside to mess with his hair. It was mostly smooth and soft with clumps in it from the jell he used. Tweek prefered his hair unstyled, and as carefully as possible pulled the jelled clumps apart. Craig also had dandruff, something his dark hair made apparent. But even more surprisingly, digging through his hair he noticed that the roots were several shades lighter than the rest of his hair. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Craig asked.

 

“Your hair,” Tweek said, “The roots are brown.”

 

Craig shot up, his head nearly hitting Tweek’s chin. “Goddammit,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, reaching for a mirror to analyze himself.

 

“I didn’t know you dyed it.”

 

“Yeah and I don’t want people to know I dye it. Black hair suits my image, but people knowing I dye it makes me seem totally lame!”

 

Tweek laughed, “Craig, I don’t think it makes you lame. I don’t think that’s possible!”

 

Craig turned around, back at his boyfriend. He was once again the flustered, red-faced Craig Tweek had loved. The Craig only he got to see. The Craig underneath the cool boy, no cares persona. It made Tweek smile, knowing that despite everything, Craig hadn’t really changed since when they first got together back in fourth grade.

 

“Tweek, you know I-I-,” Craig stumbled.

 

“You?” Tweek smirked.

 

“I-I’m glad you think so,” Craig managed, “I think you’re pretty cool, too.” Tweek’s smile faltered for a moment. It was a very lame statement, coming from Craig. He knew that wasn’t what Craig wanted to say.

 

Craig was always terrible with words. It was something he confided in Tweek years ago, that communicating, talking to people, expressing himself was something that he found extremely difficult.

 

Craig and Tweek were both flawed. Part of that was reassuring to a very flawed boy like Tweek, but in other ways it made him sad. Not that his boyfriend wasn’t perfect, but that even he struggled. Still, he tried to smile back.

 

“Right,” he replied, picking up a textbook off the bed, “But let’s study now.”

 

* * *

 

 

May came by, leading to promises of high school. Tweek knew things would change, but given how they managed to survive the changes in middle school, Tweek had less to fear.

 

He had another pickup at Kenny’s house that Wednesday like always. He had somewhat grown apart from Kenny over the past couple years since he had more successfully managed to stay without meth without relapse. It which saddened him, but Kenny seemed happy as ever when he saw him, usually hanging out with Butters, Kyle, Stan, and Cartman.

 

The meth lab by now had mostly different people. One of the guys was the same, but the others had been phased out and made way for new ones. Tweek didn’t want to know where they were or what caused this change. As quickly as possible, he always handed over the money and took the brown bag. Sometimes they would try to question him or pick on him, and for the first couple years he was always frightened.  By now he knew by now they valued the income his father provided and would never harm him unless they were in a psychotic state. In those cases he would take the product as quickly as possible and run. He always made sure he had the meth. The one time he ran away without getting did not make his father happy. It was less important now that he had his fake decoy bags, but his father could always contact them and figure out that he never picked it up. It wasn’t worth the risk.

 

The replacement bag he took to switch out once he had gotten away was already in his own backpack. He had quite a few made up and could do it using his coffee shop’s own goods, no longer needing Kenny’s help. He just had to go to the dumpster on the edge of the street and dump the drug bags and take the useless bag to his father.

 

Coffee sales had been down slightly since the drugs were gotten rid of, but it didn’t matter as much given that Harbucks had already been driven out. Tweek had tried to argue that it was no longer needed, but his father insisted that he still go. Tweek sighed, grateful that at the very least he was helping his town from his father’s insanity.

 

“What are you doing at Kenny’s house, gaywad?” a voice called, breaking his train of thought. Tweek jumped. It was Eric Cartman.

 

Cartman was probably the single person at South Park Middle School he could truly say he hated. Tweek would go to his parties, but only because everyone else did. Everyone else did only because they were objectively good parties.

 

Cartman was cruel. He was racist to Token. He was anti-semitic to Kyle. He was sexist to every single girl. He pretended to not be homophobic, but whenever Craig and Tweek were alone he would always pass snide comments. When Craig wasn’t around, he would also degrade his mental health. He was everything bad in the world. Everything mean and bigoted and selfish to the extent that even looking at him made Tweek feel cold, stressed. 

 

“I wanted to see my friend,” Tweek answered. He tried to sound confident, to hide the fear in his voice.

 

“Bullshit, you’re not friends with Kenny.”

 

“Yes I am.”

 

“Kenny’s not even home. I just came by to ask him to give me back my fucking video game, but he’s at that fucking jew’s house.”

 

“Right, I didn’t know that either, so now I’m going home.”

 

“What’s in the brown bag?” Cartman asked, coming closer and closer to Tweek.

 

Tweek panicked. Cartman was the last person in the world who could know about his pickups from Kenny’s house.

 

“It’s my lunch, dude, mind your own fucking business.”

 

“I always see you eating school lunch with your little boyfriend,” Cartman tried to grab the bag, but Tweek pulled it away.

 

“Yeah my mom’s lunches suck,” Tweek clutched the bag to his pounding chest, “Please don’t tell on me to her!”

 

“I doubt it, so let me see,” Cartman grabbed at the bag again.

 

“Get the fuck  _ off _ of me!” Tweek tried to hold on tight, but feared that it might rip. Cartman used a free arm to shove his chest, knocking him to the ground. The bag came out of his grip and into Cartman’s.

 

The wind got knocked out of Tweek with the fall, rendering him incapable of getting up as soon as he normally could to take back the bag. He panicked, trying to regain himself to stop Cartman, to do anything possible to get back the bag before he could see. But it was too late.

 

“Holy shit dude, these are actual fucking drugs!” Cartman exclaimed with a guffaw. Looking at the contents, he poured some of the crystals onto his palm. “I can’t believe Craig is dating a literal druggie! Holy shit, that’s so fucking funny. Craig’s boyfriend the druggie.”

 

Tweek froze. He was scared. Cartman, the most evil person he knew, found him out. Cartman always made fun of him, always calling him insane, probably a druggie. He now had proof. He could take this to the station, to anywhere, and ruin his life. Everything Tweek worked for could be over. Not just for him, but for Kenny. Cartman had to know that it came from Kenny’s house. Kenny wanted so badly to keep his family together, despite all their flaws, if only for his little sister. He was disappointing both of their families. 

 

“L-Listen!” Tweek tried to force out, reaching for his backpack. He unzipped it, reaching for the extra brown sack, “I-It’s not what it looks like. I mean...It  _ is  _ but I don’t do drugs okay?! My parents have me order them and--”

 

“Ha, your  _ parents?! _ I knew they were fucked up freaks! Does Craig know his boyfriend is from a family more fucked up than Kenny’s?”

 

“--Kenny and I replace it with fakes. My parents avoid that coffee anyway and then no one has to be drugged.”

 

“How do I know they aren’t  _ both  _ drugs?” Cartman grinned.

 

“Here,” Tweek tossed the bag over to him, “Try some for yourself.”

 

“I’m not trying your fucked up drugs, druggie.”

 

“Just try it! You like candy, right?”

 

Cartman gave him a skeptical look, but then poured out some of the contents of the second bag into his palm. He smelled it, licked it, and then swallowed it. “Yep, that’s rock candy alright. Pretty good shit, actually.”

 

“Cartman, please,” Tweek begged, finally standing up, “I know you don’t care about me, but what about Kenny? He’s your friend, right? You don’t want him taken away, right? Please just let me go about my way and destroy the drugs.  _ Please.” _

 

He didn’t trust Cartman to do the right thing. Still, Tweek had to try. Cartman overdramatically analyzed both bags again, pouring out content and smelling and analyzing both. Finally after a long time, he threw one of the bags back at Tweek.

 

“Here’s your rock candy,” Cartman called, about to turn away. “For Kenny.”

 

“Can I have both back?” Tweek asked. He was still in shock that Cartman gave him either. He still didn’t trust him to not run down to the police office to report him.

 

“Nah I heard meth explodes. I wanna check it out.”

 

“Dude, you might blow your face off.” Tweek wasn’t really concerned about Cartman’s face. In reality, he was more concerned that he might use it to blow up a building orsome small animal.

 

“I think the answer you should be giving me is ‘Thank you Eric for not ratting out my druggie family’,” Cartman laughed, walking off in the opposite direction, paper bag in tow.

 

Tweek sighed. He hated that Cartman knew, but he supposed it could have been a lot worse and decided to count his blessings. Sure, Cartman might kill a squirrel or sure he might report him to the police. If Cartman did, however, there would be no proof. He could say he wasn’t at Kenny’s house and even if the police tore apart Tweek’s house they would find nothing. The only person who could still be in real trouble was Kenny.

 

He brought the fake delivery home to his dad as quickly as possible, trying to get his fears out of his mind. His father was overjoyed,snatching the bag claiming that he had a new line of coffee planned that he wanted to try out. Tweek sat in the storeroom, only half heartedly listening while he considered what he should do. Should he warn Kenny? Should he try to pretend like nothing happened? 

 

“Here Tweek,” he brought over a cup. Tweek was still deep in thought, instinctively taking a big sip, swallowing it down in one gulp. 

 

Tweek choked. This wasn’t right. That wasn’t candy. There was instead that old, distinct chemical taste he remembered from years ago. He wanted to puke. His father pushed forth another cup, a slightly darker roast, asking him to try it as well. He couldn’t say no. He took another sip, hoping that his taste buds were tricking him the first time. They weren’t.

 

Cartman had given him the bag of drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the continued support!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was finally away from South Park. Away from the school. Away from all his classmates. Away from all the people he loved and hated. Away from Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I outlined this story fully intending Craig to be in college right away. Somehow when actually writing this story, it didn't happen until chapter 10.

It was about a three hour drive from South Park to Colorado State University in Fort Collins. Clyde and his dad decided to have the Tuckers go with them so the boys could move in together. They were renting a super cheap apartment together that catered to college students, not wanting to deal with potential strangers in an overpriced dorm setting. Bebe on the other hand  _ was _ staying in a dorm, hoping to get into a sorority, but couldn’t move in until later that week. Craig preferred it that way, getting to settle in with Clyde without them being all over each other with their newfound freedom. 

 

Tricia, Craig’s loving and doting sister, begged to be left behind the weekend. No, she didn’t have plans, she just didn’t want to have to bother spending her time shoved up in a car and helping her brother and his friend renovate their apartment. Their parents protested, saying it was a big move for Craig (only a three hour drive he could easily take for any holiday or weekend) and that it would hurt his feelings if she didn’t go (it didn’t). Eventually she got her way, saying she still had a summer book report she had to work on that she had conveniently forgot about. Craig wouldn’t be surprised if she made it up, not that he really cared.

 

The apartment building, based on the contract, only had one parking space. Only Clyde had his own car anyway, so the Tuckers drove up in their personal car while the Donovans in Clyde’s, while the three parents would ride back together in a single car. Craig paid off a large part of Clyde’s car so that he could justify using it as his own, to which Clyde didn’t really care as he was a shitty driver who barely passed the test himself. They were only about a 15 minute drive from campus with a doable walk, so neither of them were very worried.

 

The drive to the campus was obnoxious for Craig. His parents both wanted to talk non-stop, claiming that they wanted to talk to their son while they still could. Craig wanted nothing more than to put in headphones and text his friends about his woes. Of course, his parents won out. Clyde, on the other hand, sent texts saying how he loved spending the quality time with his own father, which somehow made Craig even more annoyed. The three hour drive felt like thirty, and Craig couldn’t be more relieved when he saw that they had arrived.

 

Still being in Colorado, the landscape of Fort Collins didn’t seem all that terribly different from South Park. It was covered in familiar snow-capped mountains and seemed pretty much exactly how he expected a college town to be. He figured it would probably be full of hipsters and frat boys and all sorts of people that would annoy him, but he figured it was better than spending another minute with the people in South Park. So the new town didn’t disappoint him, but it didn’t excite him either. 

 

“This’ll be fucking AWESOME!” Clyde exclaimed as the two families met up in the parking lot of their new building. Of course he would think that. Clyde would love it even if it was in some backwater shithole, let alone in a large college town.

 

Though conversely, they  _ were  _ coming from a backwater shithole.

 

They quickly got their keys from the building manager and went to check out the new apartment, most of their things still in the cars. It was a fifth floor studio apartment that was about the size of Craig’s bedroom at home. If he was alone, none of this would matter. The fact that he had to share all of this with Clyde 24/7 with no space for himself was a whole nother matter. 

 

There were two twin beds that seemed more like cots on opposite sides of the room and a small table against a third wall next to the windows. The kitchen only contained a small stove and mini fridge, the latter Clyde would almost definitely hog to himself. The bathroom was tiny and lacked a bathtub, which disappointed him. Craig didn’t like to admit it, but he liked taking a nice bath sometimes.

 

“Sure reminds me of my old college days here at CSU,” Mr. Donovan smiled as they entered. Clyde quickly threw his bag on the bed on the left, claiming it, while Craig claimed the one on the right. Unlike Clyde who was, in Craig’s opinion, the quintessence of a preppy jock, letterman jacket and all, Clyde’s father was a middle aged balding man with thick glasses who if Craig had to venture a guess, was probably a huge nerd in his youth. He owned a shoe shop that gave them a respectable income, but unlike boisterous Clyde he was very soft spoken and respectful. Still, he seemed to completely approve of all of the dumb things Clyde did and said, probably out of some intergenerational wish fulfillment. Or maybe he also felt like he had to make up for Clyde’s dead mother.

 

“Are you sure you’ll have enough space here?” Mrs. Tucker asked, analyzing the room with a very detail oriented eye. His mother always dressed conservatively, like a stereotypical housewife, even though she had a job as an accountant at the local bank. Craig figured she was probably a goody-two-shoes nerd too.

 

“No,” Craig answered bluntly, “But we’ll be fine. Probably.”

 

“Come on dude, it’ll be fun,” Clyde got up and jump-sat next to Craig on his own bed.

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Make sure you check the beds for bed bugs before you put all your stuff on it,” his mother warned.

 

“You worry too much Laura, they’ll be fine,” his father put his hand on her shoulder, “Come on Roger, how about the three of us go get their stuff while they get acquainted with the place.” Craig’s father was  _ definitely _ the frat boy party type in college. He didn’t need to see the pictures of him and Stan Marsh’s father together in front of their former frat houses to know this. He used to wonder if he disappointed his father for not being more like him, but over time his father made it apparent that he didn’t mind Craig turning out...the way he did.

 

“You gotta tell me you’re going to try and have  _ fun _ in college,” Clyde demanded as soon as their parents disappeared, “All of that shit back at home is behind us now. The two of us are adults on our own now, and we gotta live life to the fullest.”

 

“Be careful your ‘fun’ doesn’t lead you to flunking out,” Craig responded dully.

 

“Then let’s compromise,” Clyde answered immediately, probably knowing he was going to say that before he did, “I’ll try studying and doing good in school but in turn you gotta get that ten foot pole out your ass and try and actually  _ live. _ ”

 

“We’ll see,” Craig sighed. He knew exactly what Clyde meant by fun. Parties, beer pong, hookups, all of that shit. Shit Craig wasn’t the least bit interested in, even if it involved all hot men interested in other men. But he  _ also  _ knew Clyde was right. He knew needed to actually  _ live _ and leave the past behind him.

 

Thankfully, before Clyde had a chance to hound him much longer, their parents were back up with boxes and suitcases. The heaviest and most awkward was Clyde’s tv he brought complete with his Xbox so the two could still game. Their apartment wasn’t big enough for much, but they had lamps, dishes, a rug, and other essentials mainly packed by Craig’s mother, along with their basic personal items like clothes, shoes, etc. They spent several hours putting things in their place, which amazed Craig given how small the space really was.

 

Come evening, Clyde would have loved nothing more than to go out and scout a party scene that night, but since their parents were staying in town the next two nights for the weekend at a nearby hotel, they went out to dinner at some diner. He knew Clyde hated it, but Craig found it rather good and made a mental note to come back to it. He would especially like it without all three parents lecturing them on their entire life to come.

 

They stayed the night in their own place, Craig was exhausted--refusing Clyde’s pleas to chat the night away--and went to sleep as soon as he could. The following day involved more setup and a lot of bickering from Craig’s mom. She needed them to show her they knew how to get to school. She needed to take them to go school supply shopping, willing to pay for both of them. She needed to make sure they had the entire goddamn town memorized. It was like bootcamp to Craig, figuring that she was probably going to be harder than any of his actual classes.

 

It was exhausting but before long it was Sunday, time for their parents to leave them behind in this new land. Clyde, always a crybaby, sobbed while his father told him goodbye. Craig felt a bit of sadness knowing that everything was going to change and that he wouldn’t have his parents around all the time anymore, but he didn’t cry. He knew that they were no more than a phone call and three hours away. This wasn’t some permanent goodbye.

 

So instead once they were all gone he looked out the window. It was kind of a shitty parking lot view with some of the town visible. Still, it was  _ his _ new view.

 

He was finally away from South Park. Away from the school. Away from all his classmates. Away from all the people he loved and hated. Away from  _ Tweek. _

 

“Come on dude, now that they’re gone let’s go party!” Clyde barged in, hitting Craig on the shoulder. Apparently his tears for his father were already faded and one-track minded Clyde already had his eyes set on the prize.

 

“Dude, we have orientation at 8 am tomorrow, I’m so not going to put up with your hungover bullshit.”

 

“Come on dude, how about at least the Applebee’s nearby. It’s lame as hell like you, but at least there’s food and drinks,” Clyde whined, sounding like a small child begging to go to the toy store.

 

“Dude, we’re 18 years old. We’d get carded.”

 

“Nope!” Clyde smirked, reaching into his pocket pulling out two cards, driver’s license. Craig noticed that one had his name and photo on it and grabbed it. It was identical to his own, with his birthday three years prior.

 

“Dude how the fuck? This is  _ illegal _ . How did you even get my information?”

 

Clyde’s grin grew even more mischievous, “I got Token to take care of it. We both knew you wouldn’t agree to it yourself, so we managed to make a copy of your real license when you were at a sleepover.”

 

“That’s bullshit. You’re just saying Token did it so I trust the apparent validity of it.”

 

“Do you want me to call him?” Clyde pulled out his phone, the corner of his mouth making an almost evil smirk.

 

“Goddammit.”

 

\---

 

Clyde lied. He didn’t take them to Applebees. He took them to Hooters.

 

“This isn’t Applebee’s,” Craig declared.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Clyde waved him off as he looked at the menus covered in Hooters Girls. Clyde had always loved Hooters, finding himself absolutely weak for all the waitresses he was thoroughly convinced were actually into him. Then getting his heart broken when he realized they weren’t. Somehow he never learned.

 

“I don’t think Bebe would approve.”

 

“Okay but NUMBER ONE It’s just a restaurant,” Clyde slammed his menu down, getting defensive, “Number TWO, she isn’t here, and number THREE this is technically for  _ you. _ ”

 

“Me?” Craig asked, unsure of what Clyde could possibly mean.

 

“Yes you.”

 

“Clyde literally how the fuck does this place cater to me? I mean sure their chicken wings are good, but so are Buffalo Wild Wings which was an equal fucking distance to us.” 

 

“Well you know, I thought since you were still grieving over Tweek and also that harsh shit I said at you back at Token’s...You know.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Clyde?” The disbelief in his voice growing stronger than he thought was humanly possible.

 

“What?”

 

“Please explain to mel me why you would take me to  _ Hooters _ to get over Tweek.”

 

“Well, you know...Look around. All the hot waitresses--”

 

“Clyde. Clyde, think for a moment. For once in your life.”

 

“I think it’s a good idea and you should chill out,” Clyde scoffed, looking away and scanning the menu carefully.

 

“Clyde.”

 

“What?” Clyde was clearly getting offended. Craig didn’t care.

 

“You are probably the absolute stupidest person I have ever met.”

 

“How so? You don’t like these waitress--”

 

“Clyde. Clyde, I’m  _ gay _ .”

 

“Oh yeah,” Clyde pondered this like it was long forgotten information, “I didn’t think about that.

 

“ _ Dude, _ I’ve been dating a guy since the fourth grade. Tweek is a  _ dude. _ ” There went Craig’s even toned voice, unable to withstand the shit that comes out of his somehow best friend’s mouth.

 

“Well I dunno, I never really thought about that that much. I kind of just took you two for granted, I didn’t normally think about how you guys were both dudes. N-Not that I viewed one of you as a girl. Or had any problems with the idea.”

 

Clyde still seemed to brush it off. Craig groaned, looking at his menu. He liked Clyde, he really did. He was a good friend who has similar taste in video games and movies, would be there for his friends at the drop of a hat, and really isn’t a terrible person at heart. Still, in times like these Craig wondered how they managed to make their friendship last at all.

 

“Hey babes how’s it going,” the waitress came back interrupting his thoughts, ready for their drink orders. She put a hand on Craig’s shoulder, as is the norm with their sort of waitresses. Craig read one time that straight men are more likely to tip if they get physical contact or something. He found straight men pretty said.

 

“Oh you don’t have to go all out for him like that, hon, he’s  _ gay, _ ” Clyde smirked.

 

“Clyde! Enough!” Craig scolded. It was going to be an obnoxiously long four years.

 

\---

 

Orientation was helpful enough that Craig was glad he forced him and Clyde to sign up for it. Sure parts of it were boring and droned on, but he was especially grateful for the campus tour to help him figure out where all his classes for the semester were going to be.

 

Clyde and him were both officially undeclared majors, but Craig figured he wanted to either go into astronomy or some sort of engineering. He wanted to work for Nasa or SpaceX or something, but wasn't fully sure what yet. Space had always fascinated him. He loved his telescope, he loved having space related posters in his room, and he even loved reading books on space that all his friends claimed were boring. He knew that being an astronaut was next to impossible, but he figured that he could still work for them. 

 

Clyde on the other hand was fully undecided. 

 

School was going to officially start on Wednesday, and students had already poured in, Bebe being set to come later that evening. There were already signs begging people to join clubs, fraternities, and so forth. Math club, political clubs, fraternities and sororities, and niche nerdy clubs. None of them seemed of any interest to him.

 

“You better not ditch me for a fraternity, dude,” Craig told Clyde as they passed a fraternity booth. They handed out flyers and Clyde politely took one.

 

“Nah, Greek life is kind of dead now,” Clyde said, tossing the flyer into the trash, “Too much controversy and baggage and dealing with hazing, it’s not worth it. It’s all about knowing the right people to go to parties, anyway. Bebe can join a sorority to make friends all she wants, but I’m not about that. Besides, I know there’s  _ no way _ you would join one.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Also, I’ve been thinking about you being gay,” Clyde continued.

 

“Oh  _ god. _ ”

 

“No, it’s great. You can be my gay wingman and I can be your...uh, straight-man wingman?”

 

“First of all, please die for saying that. Second of all, you have a girlfriend. She’s literally coming here in like three hours. You just mentioned her like three seconds ago.”

 

“Yeah, and I love Bebe a lot. But you know, what if she breaks my heart for some frat boy?”

 

“Clyde you literally made me pick this school because Bebe and you both got in here. You  _ just said  _ frat boys are lame.”

 

“Okay, okay that’s fair,” Clyde granted him, “But my offer to help you still stands. I’m pretty sure there’s a Gay Club at most schools--”

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

Clyde groaned as they entered the Panda Express for lunch. The line was obnoxiously long, but Clyde insisted on going there. He had a feeling Clyde and him would be spending a good deal of their lunches here.

 

“Craig, can I ask you a personal question?” Clyde asked him in the line in a quiet voice, drowned out by the loud noises of the restaurant to prevent any potential evesdroppers.

 

“I would prefer you didn’t, but you’re going to anyway.”

 

“Are you a virgin?”

 

“Clyde, what the FUCK?” Craig answered louder than he wanted to. A few people in line looked over at him, only to immediately go back to their business.

 

“Come on dude, I’m trying to help you out here, and I feel like it’s relevant information to get just how your vibes are.”

 

“How the fuck is what Tweek and I did relevant to you  _ at all _ ?” Craig tried to sound more quiet this time, irritation still coming through.

 

“Okay, then as a curious but concerned friend.”

 

Luckily for Craig, it was Clyde’s turn in the line followed by his own, allowing him a good several minutes of ordering orange chicken and finding a table in the crowded shithole before he had to answer. He wasn’t sure if he was going to. He always prided himself in privacy, and a question like this also invaded Tweek’s privacy. Still, he figured in college perhaps he should loosen up, at least to his best friend.

 

“The answer is no,” Craig finally let out under his breath, looking directly at his food.

 

“No you’re no a virgin or no you haven’t done anything?” Clyde asked, his mouth full of noodles.

 

“No, I’m not a virgin.”

 

“Wow that’s actually surprising to hear,” Clyde answered, swallowing his food with an annoying gulp.

 

“Dude, we dated for almost a decade,” Craig burrowed his eyebrows, still looking at his food, “I don’t think it’s that surprising.”

 

“Yeah but  _ Tweek--” _

 

“Shut it!”

 

“Man that almost makes things more difficult,” Clyde put his chopsticks down and scratched his head, “I kinda figured you were and that getting laid the first time would help you out, but if you’ve already--”

 

“Clyde my patience with you is running ridiculously thin.”

 

“Okay fine,” Clyde sighed, going back to his food, “But seriously dude, I do worry about you. I think you really need to get over Tweek.”

 

“Why do you care so much? No one acted this annoying whenever Token or Jimmy got in a break up.”

 

“Yeah well, you and Tweek are different,” Clyde’s tone sounded more serious and genuine, “You and Tweek, as you said, were together for, like, ever dude. It’s more like you lost someone who was genuinely significant to you. I can relate to that.”

 

“Dude, you breaking up with Sally Turner is not at all the same--”

 

“I was talking about my dead mom, asshole.”

 

Craig was taken aback, unsure of how to respond.

 

“Sorry,” Craig said quietly, figuring that was the best thing he could say.

 

“It’s fine,” Clyde gave a small sad smile, “Now we’re even from yesterday.”

 

\---

 

When Bebe arrived and visited their apartment she and Clyde acted as though they hadn’t seen each other in years. It had been all of three days.

 

“Clyde, I missed you!” she jumped on him while he supported her.

 

“I know right?” he smiled, then looking at Craig with a smirk,  “Just being with that asshole has been a real downer.”

 

“Oh don’t be mean to poor Craig,” she jumped down, lightly scolding her boyfriend, “He’s still brokenhearted.”

 

“I’ve been trying to fix that!” Clyde protested, “But he won’t listen to my advise.”

 

“Clyde, baby, you’re  _ awful _ at relationship advice,” she said, pecking him on the mouth then turning to Craig, “Listen to me,  _ not  _ him, if you ever want any help.”

 

“Why can’t you guys get it in your head that I don’t want any ‘ _ help _ ’?” Craig groaned.

 

Bebe frowned. She was an objectively pretty girl, and was the first in their class to undergo puberty--and did it well. Her blonde hair was more golden than Tweek’s, more like that of Kenny McCormick. When they were younger, her hair was always in tight perms, but as she grew older she instead wore her hair in gentler mermaid curls. She was a socialite like Red, but in a somehow less aesthetically based, much louder way. While Red was artsy, Bebe was preppy.

 

She wasn’t a bad girl by any means, just a little too gregarious for Craig personally to handle. Kind of like Clyde, but far less stupid. Sure, she wasn’t an honor grad, but she was decently smart. Maybe if Clyde didn’t exist, filling out his tolerance quota, he would like her a lot more.

 

“For real though, Craig,” her voice became more serious and sympathetic, “Everyone knows how hard that breakup was for you. We just want you to have fun and put it all behind you. Regardless of whether you want to hook up with someone else  _ or  _ just have fun being single for once.”

 

Yes, definitely far less stupid than Clyde. Probably too good for him, in fact.

 

Bebe and Clyde sat down on his side of the room drinking beers that Craig refused, discussing their plans for life in college. Bebe had moved into her new dorm and apparently shared it with some edgy hipster she already could tell she wouldn’t be able to stand. Craig knew that meant she was probably going to be around here a lot.

 

They stayed at it for hours on end, somewhat driving Craig crazy. Bottles of beer started to litter Clyde’s side of the room as he could tell they got tipsier and tipsier. They decided to turn on the new tv, flipping through dumb game shows Craig never even heard of. At midnight when Craig finally put his foot down and told them to shut up. Bebe laughed, saying it was fair and kissed Clyde goodnight and goodbye. She also said goodbye to Craig, but he mostly just groaned back.

 

Clyde started to speak as soon as Bebe left, but Craig told him to be quiet and go to sleep.

 

Still, he found it hard to go to sleep. His mind was too busy.

 

He was reminded of Tweek all day by his obnoxious best friend all day, and yet at no point did he feel an imaginary knife stabbing him like it usually did. He wasn’t sure if it was because his annoyance was a distraction, but regardless part of him felt hopeful. Maybe he  _ would _ get over Tweek and move on with his life. Maybe he  _ would _ find some other nice guy he could be with. Maybe Tweek would be a distant memory he could look back at and not feel anything.

 

_ “In three years we’ll be out of here. Okay?”  _ he recalled telling Tweek years ago.

 

_ “Okay Craig,”  _ Tweek had answered,  _ “Can we promise that?” _

 

_ “Of course I promise, dude. Like I said, we’re mean to be together. I won’t let that change, I promise.” _

 

The idea of Tweek becoming a distant memory also frightened him.

 

Craig rolled over, shoving his headphones in his ears, the background noise drowning out his thoughts as he drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A change of mood! Let me know what you think <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sweet 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I don't condone underage drug use.

Smoking out of a pipe was Tweek’s preferred method.

 

He found it quicker than swallowing and it also helped his stomach ulcers he had built up over the years. His stomach still frequently pained him, but the bloating went down considerably. He never shot up, despite hearing that it was a preferred method, as the concept of injecting drugs into his bloodstream was too frightening a concept for him. Not that it mattered as much to him anymore. He had consumed so much, building up a high tolerance, that he didn’t really feel much from it anymore.

 

Tweek had fully fallen off the wagon. Sure, he didn’t do it on purpose. He was tricked into it. He hadn’t been _happy_ about falling back into it. He was angry. Very angry.  In fact, it led to his worst bit of meth rage he ever had. An anger that played over and over in Tweek’s head, haunting him.

 

All the years he had spent in middle school trying to stay away from drugs and Eric Cartman ruined it all for him. All those times he had fought the temptation. Fought to have a life like any other teenager. To have a life like Craig’s. To be _normal._

 

But in that moment, all Tweek could think about was how much he wanted to make Cartman pay.

 

It had been already dark, the first night Tweek accidentally consumed meth again. Tweek’s father questioned him, asking him to stay put, but Tweek wouldn’t listen. He didn’t take anything with him. He didn’t need to. He just needed to get to Cartman.

 

He had felt himself build up an unbridled rage he never usually felt before, physically shaking with rage. Sure, drugs always made him angrier, but not like this. He felt like he could kill Cartman with his bare hands if he had to. He hadn’t completely ruled that idea. It wasn’t until he stopped in front of Cartman’s house that suddenly realizing he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he planned on doing.

 

He saw a large rock near the mailbox. That would do. Without hesitation, he went to pick it up. It was heavy, but not too heavy. With one swing of his arm, he threw it. He threw it straight up through Cartman’s bedroom window, shattering it with a loud crash.

 

It didn’t help his anger subside. He was pleased that he had hit his target, but it wasn’t enough. He was still ANGRY.

 

“Dude what the _fuck_?!” he heard Cartman yell from inside his bedroom. After a few moments, he looked out the window in his pajamas to see where the rock came from. Tweek was disappointed he didn’t have another rock to throw straight to his head.

 

“GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE CARTMAN!” Tweek had screamed. He was aware that he sounded nothing like himself. It was as if another, angrier identity completely overtook him, speaking for him. He didn’t care.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ Tweek, are you insane?!” Cartman rolled his eyes and disappeared from the window, going back into his room.

 

Mrs. Cartman opened the front door in her bathrobe, alarmed and unsure of what happened. Shortly after, Cartman pushed passed her, nearly knocking her over to get to Tweek.

 

“Dude you fucking broke my window you sick psycho,” Cartman ran over to Tweek, shoving him to the ground. “You could have fucking killed me.”

 

“ _I_ could have killed _you?_!” Tweek fumed, quicly getting back up and grabbing Cartman’s shirt by the collar, “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME?!”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can’t control that you’re fucking crazy.” Cartman didn’t struggle nor did he continue to fight back.

 

“YES YOU DO! _YOU_ DID THIS TO ME!” Tweek removed one of his hands from its grip on Cartman’s collar and punched himsquare in the jaw. Cartman was much taller and meatier than him, not causing nearly the damage that he wanted. He pushed back, but it didn’t make him scream in agony like he wanted. Tweek growled with frustration as he tried to punch him again, this time Cartman raised a hand to block him.

 

“Boys, whatever is going on?” Mrs. Cartman asked in her innocent yet frightened voice. She ran down the driveway to try and approach them, but not brave enough to try and break them up.

 

“YOUR SON RUINED _EVERYTHING!_ THIS IS ALL _HIS_ FAULT!” Tweek yelled, but continued to only look at Cartman, his vision going cloudy. He realized there were tears running down his face. He hit Cartman again. And again. Cartman made no effort to block him. Tweek didn’t care, he continued to hit him. He yelled and yelled, continuing to hit Cartman over and over.

 

That is, until someone very suddenly grabbed Tweek from behind. The person looped their arms under his, pulling him back, away from Cartman. Tweek instinctively kicked and yelled, demanding that he be let go. He didn’t know who it was, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else. Only Cartman. How much he needed to get at Cartman.

 

“Tweek, whatever the hell Cartman did I’m sure he deserves this,” the person holding him said quietly into his ear, “But you need to stop this.” He instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Kyle Broflovski.

 

“Let me go!” Tweek struggled. He continued to kick, trying to aim for Kyle’s shins, nearly escaping from grasp.

 

“Stan help me here!” Kyle called. Tweek hadn’t known that he was there, but Stan came from the side, grabbing Tweek from his front, trying to keep him in place. Kyle still had his arms looped, while Stan grabbed his hands and pinned them by his shoulder.

 

“Let me go!” Tweek spat again. He tried to use Stan as leverage to push back on Kyle, knocking him down so that he could escape. Kyle figured this out and let go, allowing Stan to twist Tweek’s arms, knocking him to the ground. Stan instantly pulled him back up by one arm before he could get his bearings and held him tightly from behind. Tweek knew that the he wouldn’t be able to break free, now.  Especially from Stan. Stan wasn’t super tall but he was well built, the quarterback of the football team. Still, he struggled.

 

“Dude, chill out, this is fucking ridiculous” Stan said, clearly annoyed by the whole situation. Far more annoyed than mad.

 

“Tweek listen to us,” Kyle walked back over to Tweek, looking him dead in the eyes, his voice as steady as possible, “You’re making a scene. This is what Cartman _wants._ ”

 

Tweek stopped struggling for a moment at Kyle’s words. He hadn’t really thought about how Stan and Kyle knew what was going on and knew to come here. He hadn’t considered that others were also there. He managed to move his head and looked to his side. All the neighborhood was outside to see the commotion. They were all looking at him.

 

“Tweek’s a fucking psychopath,” he heard Cartman spat.

 

Tweek’s heart dropped. A feeling of fear and dread grew within him. Nearly enough to almost make him feel sobered up. It finally dawned on him what he was doing. It finally dawned on him what everyone would think of him.

 

He was a deranged drug addict who threw a rock in another student’s window. He threw a window into someone’s house in the middle of the night and proceeded to try and beat him up. Everyone saw it.

 

He remembered seeing his parents car drive up after Mrs. Cartman had called them. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Mrs. Broflovski had also rushed over, saying she wanted to call the police. Tweek had panicked. He didn’t want to end up in jail. They would do drug tests and find out, his whole life would be over. He struggled in Stan’s arms, desperate to run somewhere, anywhere far away, but Stan and tightened his grip on him, Kyle going back to try and help holding him once more. They never let go of him.

 

Everyone was looking at him.

 

His father asked for the police to please not get involved. He would pay to replace the window and then some. Tweek was just off his meds, he said. Tweek is just having an episode, he said. Mrs. Cartman was a benevolent woman and accepted. Mrs. Broflovski conceded. She said that Tweek was still dangerous. Something needed to be done with him, for everyone’s safety.

 

As Tweek was carted back into his parents car, Tweek could feel the neighborhood’s eyes were  like knives. Tweek was dangerous. He was a safety threat. He wasn’t normal.

 

In the crowd of knife-like eyes, he finally saw Craig from a distance. He was running towards the car, his expression masked by the darkness of the night. He called out Tweek’s name. But it was too late, his parents had already started the car, taking off the opposite direction Craig was running from. They were upset at Tweek. They were not going to stop for Craig.

 

His mother was crying.

 

“You gave him the drugged coffee didn’t you?” she sobbed.

 

His father tried to cover it up. To say that it was an accident. That he never did it before.

 

Tweek didn’t care what his father wanted anymore. He told her everything, how his father had given it to him since the third grade. How she had to have known, but was intentionally turning a blind eye. How she always turned a blind eye to everything that happened to him.

 

She said she didn’t believe him. She believed her husband. It made Tweek feel ice cold.

 

His parents made him go to school the next day, claiming it would look even worse if he didn’t. Of course Tweek wouldn’t live it down at school. Everyone looked at him differently. Like they did back in third and fourth grade, only worse. Like he was poisoned. Like he was infected with something they might catch. The shadow people would come out, twisting their expressions even more insideously than they naturally were. They reminded him exactly what everyone thought of him.

 

“Yeah Tweek totally assaulted me,” he heard Cartman brag in the cafeteria, “His parents said he was ‘off his meds’. He was probably high as fuck on drugs, too. Fucking creep.”

 

Craig had put his arm around Tweek’s shoulder, guiding him away to the other side of the cafeteria as if to shield him.

 

“Hey Craig, how does it feel to have such a fucked up boyfriend?” Cartman called, taking notice of Craig’s actions.

 

“Don’t pay attention to that asshole,” Craig told Tweek under his breath, wrapping his arm around him even tighter. He pressed his lips to Tweek’s cheek.

 

Craig was the only one who hadn’t seemed afraid of him. He did look at him differently when he first saw him that morning. His eyes were wide and looked as if he didn’t sleep, but the look he gave him didn’t seem to show that he was scared of him. He seemed scared _for_ him. He didn’t say anything, he only wordlessly pulled Tweek into a hug. It overwhelmed Tweek, rendering him only being capable of hugging him back as tightly as he possibly could.

 

Token, Jimmy, and Clyde also looked at him differently. Jimmy was one of the boys who saw the whole thing happen. He saw Tweek lose it. Token and Clyde heard all the horror stories. Still, Craig tried to act normally, starting casual conversation. Tweek could cut the tension with a knife.

 

Tweek now had the reputation of a mentally unstable drug addict. There was nothing he could do about it. Falling off the wagon once was like a total relapse--he couldn’t help but take more and more. He wasn’t sure what made him want it more, the physical addiction or the stress. He hoped summer break and the start of high school would change things, but it didn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

“So you’re giving up?”

 

Tweek snapped out of his daydreaming and back to the present when he heard Kenny’s question. Kenny sat down next to him at their usual spot on the ranch. They were sophomores now. The two reconnected a lot since high school started.

 

Tweek ignited his lighter below the glass pipe. “I think so. It’s hard to quit, especially when that’s all people expect of you anyway.”

 

“You don’t want to exceed their expectations?”

 

Tweek didn’t answer. He brought the pipe to his mouth, inhaling and then exhaling. He was smoking a very small amount, enough to keep him from withdrawal. Still, after years of ingesting, he was always amazed how quickly he could feel it while smoking. It didn’t give him euphoria, but he could tell it was there. He set his pipe aside.

 

Kenny strongly disapproved of him doing meth, but he stayed next to him. He said that he didn’t want him to be alone, both for his emotional and physical safety. No overdosing, no repeat of the Cartman incident. Kenny himself had been smoking pot since seventh grade and often did it beside him. He would always offer some to Tweek. It did help mellow him out and take away some of the edge. Still, it never replaced his cravings for meth like Kenny had hoped.

 

“By the way. Happy Sweet Sixteen, Tweek,” Kenny lit his own marijuana pipe, offering it to Tweek before using it himself.

 

“Thanks,” Tweek took it and let out a single small puff. Kenny didn’t light it long enough.

 

“So are you doing anything for your big day or just getting all fucked up?” Kenny asked, taking it back and reigniting his lighter below it.

 

“Craig’s family is taking me out to eat.”

 

“Like this?” Kenny asked with a dark laugh, taking a huff and passing it back to Tweek.

 

“I’m always _‘like this’_ ,” Tweek sighed. He took another puff. This time was a lot better.

 

“So have you told him?”

 

Tweek choked and began coughing. “No way man, he can _never_ know!” Tweek shoved the pipe back at Kenny.

 

“Well you did say you don’t see yourself quitting. If you plan on staying with him he’s gotta find out eventually.” Kenny casually smoked some more.

 

“No man. No way. I don’t want him to know this side of me. He already knows I’m messed up but I don’t want him to know _how_ messed up I am! He deserves better. I love him too much to have him be a part of this shit.”

 

“Well dude, if that’s the case maybe you should think about quitting the meth. You keep doing it, you’re brain is going to be fried and your face will look--”

 

“I _know_ ! You think I don’t know how much meth fucks people up? You think that doesn’t absolutely terrify me? You think I don’t know I’m ruining Craig’s and my change at happiness? You know what my plan is? The answer is I don’t know. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I don’t know how long I’ll even _live_. It isn’t fair to Craig, but right now he’s the best thing I have. Even if I’m not strong enough to be the way I should be for him. I know it’s me being selfish, but I want to be with him as long as I can!” Tweek realized he was physically shaking. He snatched back Kenny’s pipe, knowing he really needed it.

 

“Sorry dude,” Kenny answered, and Tweek knew he meant it. He knew red-eyed Kenny was high as a kite, probably having been smoking before he even came here. Pot always led Kenny to say stupid personal emotional shit that was uncomfortable and invasive to Tweek.

 

Yet at the same time, he loved Kenny’s company. He felt like Kenny was the one person in the world who could fully understand him.

 

He loved Craig, but Craig didn’t really know the majority of his life. He was very sweet to him in a way contrary to his usual aloof, sardonic demeanor he had towards everyone else. He knew how to deal with his panic attacks. He didn’t mind that he was dating someone who was viewed as such a societal outcast. Craig stayed beside him the whole time. Tweek was amazed at his resilience and thought he was far too good for him.

 

Craig stayed beside him. When everyone else fled from him, Craig greeted him with a hug. Craig tried to help him.

 

Craig was handsome and smart and pretty well liked at their school despite his attitude problem and weirdo boyfriend. Craig would go on to do great things with his life.

 

Tweek on the other hand had thrown his future down the drain. Or so he pretty much figured.

 

 _“This town is a hellhole full of assholes,”_ Craig had told him,   _“But that’s alright, because in three years we’ll be out of here. Okay?”_

 

Tweek wondered if he could escape from his problems. If Craig _could_ save him. Maybe if he left his home he would no longer feel the day to day pressure to consume drugs. He would be free with Craig as his support, fresh new eyes that didn’t judge him. The two of them could be a normal couple with a normal life.

 

_“Okay Craig,” Tweek tried to smile, “Can we promise that?”_

 

 _“Of course I promise, dude. Like I said, we’re mean to be together. I won’t let that change, I promise.”_ He knew Craig meant it. He knew by now that Craig could keep it. What Craig didn’t know was that he wasn’t the one who needed to keep the promise. Tweek did.

 

Tweek doubted Craig really could save him.

 

Kenny, on the other hand, knew all his secrets. He knew all his struggles with drugs, with his family, with everything. In turn, he knew all the woes about Kenny’s own family. The fights his parents got involved in. How his sister was going through her edgy goth phase and wanted to spend more sitting at Denny’s drinking coffee than study, and how that drove Kenny insane. How his older brother was apparently the most useless being in existence.

 

Butters and Kenny had grown apart since high school. Tweek knew in a way he was a sorta secret pseudo-replacement, but he didn’t mind. He also knew that Kenny had a complex, wanting to help him in ways he failed to help Butters. But Tweek didn’t care. He _liked_ Kenny’s company.

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around so much in middle school, dude,” Tweek sighed.

 

Kenny chuckled, “You’re so sweet when you’re high. I like pothead Tweek.” Tweek shoved him, making Kenny laugh even harder.

 

Tweek looked idly at his phone. It was already 2:30, and the Tuckers were going to pick him up at five.

 

“I have to go,” Tweek sighed, shoving his pipe and everything else into his backpack. He probably looked and smelled like a stoner, which meant he had to shower profusely. Hopefully his eyes wouldn’t still be bright red.

 

“Aww leaving so soon?” Kenny reached up and tried to grab at Tweek, missing.

 

“You know I can’t let the Tuckers see me looking like this!”

 

“You really should just tell Craig, dude. I’m almost certain he’d understand.”

 

“We’ve been over this.”

 

“You mean how he’s completely head over heels for you and would _want_ to support you through this?”

 

Tweek ignored him, shoving the rest of his things into his bag. He went on his way towards his house, not saying another word to Kenny. Kenny didn’t say anything else either, simply sitting at their usual spot, continuing to get high.

 

When he got home, his mother greeted him. She ignored the smell of cannabis on him as she always did. She wished him happy birthday again. She said she was sorry that she and her father were too busy with some coffee shop conference in Denver tonight to go out with him, but that she had baked a cake and left it in the fridge.

 

Tweek walked passed her wordlessly, ignoring her presence entirely. He tossed his backpack onto his bed and continued on to the bathroom, slamming the door. He could hear his mother crying from outside, but he didn’t care. He had no sympathy towards her anymore.

 

Tweek always liked long showers, but he made this one even longer. He scrubbed every inch of his body until it was rubbed raw. He tried to be careful to not rub so much until he made himself bleed, as he had done in the past, but to instead focus on just getting the smells off of him. He needed to pass as normal, not making things worse.

 

 _“We’ll be able to tell,”_ Craig said.

 

Tweek physically jumped, nearly tripping down in the shower. Craig’s voice. He had just heard Craig’s voice. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut, tangling his fingers into his hair.

 

“Don’t do this,” Tweek begged, tears being mixed with the shower water dripping down his face.

 

 _“Why are you so selfish?”_ the Craig voice asked, _“Don’t you think I deserve better?”_

 

“STOP!” Tweek yelled, punching the shower wall. It hurt his hand instantly. He loosened his fist and examined it and saw that one of his knuckles was bleeding slightly.

 

He had gotten used to the Shadow People. He had gotten used to their voices. Hearing voices of real people, however, was something he would never grow accustomed to.

 

“You’re not real,” Tweek told himself, shutting off the shower. He wrapped his towel around him tightly and sat on the side of the bathtub, curling himself up. His heart was pounding. He tried to breathe slowly, ignoring the voices, ignoring the faces. He knew he was having an episode due to a lack of sleep, being on a binge for about a week now. He had hoped that staying on the binge would help him from experiencing withdrawal on his birthday. Instead he found himself tweaking.

 

“Please no,” Tweek begged quietly. It was his sixteenth birthday. He was supposed to be spending it with his boyfriend and his family.

 

 _“It’s a setup. We’re going to have you arrested”_ Craig told him.

 

Tweek was shaking profoundly, but he sat up and continued to get ready, putting on the nicest button up shirt he had. He tried to ignore the voices, to ignore the paranoia, no matter how hard. He went through his medicine cabinet and tore open a thing of gummy worms Kenny had given him. They were edibles. Hoping they would help, he quickly ate one. They usually took about an hour to work, but they usually lasted longer than smoking. Hopefully they would help him through the night. Red eyes be damned.

 

Tweek also pulled from his medicine cabinet a thing of powder foundation that he stole from the local drugstore. Tweek wasn’t a big klepto, but he was afraid of what people would think of him if they saw him buy makeup. He hadn’t been able to go back, though, fearing that his face may be plastered on a Most Wanted List for his theft. He didn’t regret having the foundation though. He used it sparingly on his face to help cover the redness and undereye circles on his face. Enough to make him look less like the walking dead.

 

His hair was a mess, but he did his best to make it look nice. For him anyway. He even used a hairdryer and brush, a rarity for him.

 

By the time he exited his bathroom, his parents were already long gone. Neither of them bothered to say goodbye. He didn’t mind. Even if he did, he was more concerned with how it was close enough to when the Tuckers were supposed to pick him up that his anxiety skyrocketed. He took another edible.

 

He would blame his red eyes on allergies.

 

The door rang, making him jump again. His paranoia made him afraid to answer it.

 

_“They won’t believe you.”_

 

He didn’t want to be arrested. He shook profusely as he approached the door. He couldn’t open it.

 

“Tweek, it’s me!” he heard a muffled voice say from outside the door. It sounded like Craig. He knew better than to go by sound alone.

 

Tweek sat down on the stairs, still trembling. He wasn’t going to answer it.

 

The doorbell rang again. Craig rang it multiple times.

 

“Tweek, are you okay?” Tweek could make out the Craig voice yelling.

 

“Your time is almost up Tweek,” another Craig voice said from behind him.

 

Tweek’s heart pounded. He wanted the edible to work, to take his fears away and clear his mind. He smacked his face, hoping that he would snap out of it and discern what’s real and what’s fake. He knew several minutes had passed, but the outside Craig voice wasn’t going away.

 

“Tweek!” the voice pleaded. Craig sounded scared, desperate. “Tweek _please_ , you’re kind of scaring me out here, dude!”

 

Tweek didn’t want to scare Craig. He didn’t know if he could trust this Craig, but he wanted to.

 

Shaking, he walked to the door. He stood there a few more moments, hearing the door be pounded, Craig only inches from him on the other side of the door. Beyond the voice and pounding, he could hear him breathing, small movements he made. It was his Craig. It _had_ to be. Hand shaking, he reached to unlock the door and opened it.

 

“Hi Craig.”

 

“Dude you scared the shit out of me! You haven’t been doing well lately and your parents said you were home, but you didn’t answer my texts and--”

 

Tweek cut him off with a forced kiss. He was still trembling, the kiss had no real passion or emotion behind it. “I’m fine, sorry. I was just busy getting ready,” Tweek tried to smile, knowing he probably sounded unconvincing.

 

Still, he felt relieved. It was his real Craig. He wouldn’t hurt him. He was safe.

 

“Babe, your eyes are bright red. Have you been crying?” Craig asked, stepping into his house. He was wearing a nice button up blouse and slacks.  A bouquet of flowers was in his arms, probably picked out by his mother.

 

“Yeah,” Tweek answered. He had been, so it wasn’t a lie. “I’m alright now, though.”

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay to go?” Craig asked, “I mean, dude, your mental health is more importan--”

 

“Are these for me, Craig?” Tweek cut him off, reaching for the flowers. They were beautiful blue flowers, the color of Tweek’s eyes. Definitely too romantic of a gesture for Craig himself to pick out.

 

“Y-Yeah,” Craig stumbled, “Happy birthday.”

 

“They’re beautiful,” Tweek smiled, “I’ll get water for them and then we can go okay? You can wait here.”

 

Tweek went into the kitchen and pulled out one of his mother’s vases. He didn’t want to take too much time, given that the rest of the Tuckers were waiting in the car, so he didn’t bother undoing the wrapping or cutting the stems. He could do that later.

 

 _“They’re probably poisonous”_ a Shadow Person told him.

 

“Shut _up!”_ Tweek yelled on instinct. His eyes went wide once he realized what he just did.

 

“Tweek, what happened?” Craig rushed in, putting his arm on his boyfriend's shoulder.

 

“They said you poisoned them” Tweek said, not looking back at him, “But I didn’t believe them.”

 

“Tweek, I promise you those voices are just your imagination, okay?” Craig pulled him into a hug from behind. The forced contact scared Tweek slightly, but it also comforted him.

 

Craig knew Tweek heard voices. It was embarrassing, but there was no use hiding it. Tweek had figured a while back that it was better for Craig to think that he was merely mentally ill.

 

“I know.”

 

“Are you going to be okay to go tonight, honey?” Craig asked in a soothing tone only Tweek ever got to hear from him, helping him more than he could ever express. Craig turned him around and fooled with Tweek’s buttons. Initially Tweek was put off guard, but then he could see that Craig was fixing them. Tweek was terrible at keeping his buttons straight.

 

“I want to go,” Tweek nearly whispered.

 

“HEY ARE YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS COMING ALREADY?” Tweek suddenly heard a familiar female voice yell from his doorway, “CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE COME OUT NOW?”

 

“Ugh, let’s go then,” Craig let go, rolling his eyes, “My parents might get the wrong idea.”

 

He grabbed Tweek’s hand, giving him a sympathetic smile once more. Tweek smiled back, following him out. He was pretty sure that this time it was genuine.

 

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Tucker asked from the driver’s seat.

 

“Tweek just wanted to get water for the flowers,” Craig answered annoyedly. He was giving a tone his parents wouldn’t approve of, but it made Tweek grateful that he was doing so in a way to avoid the subject.

 

“Probably making out,” Tricia said, climbing into the back of the car.

 

“Shut up Tricia, you don’t even know what ‘making out’ means.”

 

“I’m twelve, not two.”

 

“Enough of this making out crap already,” Mr. Tucker finally protested, “It’s Tweek’s birthday.”

 

They went to a nice upscale Italian restaurant in Denver, and it went mainly without a hitch. Whenever Craig sensed that Tweek’s anxiety or paranoia might be flaring up, he would reach for his hand under the table. The food was ordered in a traditional Italian family style way, the table ordering entrees instead of individually, allowing Tweek to get away with not taking a full serving.

 

Tweek was worried that the Tuckers would get the restaurant to sing for him. Craig assured him that he warned his parents that he was going through a tough spell. He was embarrassed that his mental health was brought up, but he was also grateful. Instead, the waiter silently gave him a birthday cake on the house. He got Craig to share it with him, allowing his boyfriend to eat most of it.

 

It amazed Tweek how much the Tuckers put up with him. They knew about his incident at Cartman’s house. They knew about his mental health. They knew his parents were negligent. It made no sense to him, but somehow they didn’t seem to care about any of that in the slightest.

 

They were the type of people who would take off work to take him out to dinner to an overpriced restaurant the second they heard his parents would be leaving him alone on his birthday.

 

“How about presents?” Tricia piped up, eating her own desert she ordered.

 

“I already got the flowers,” Tweek smiled, “They were great, thanks.”

 

“We got you more, Tweek!” Mrs. Tucker smiled, lifting up a large shopping bag. Tweek had noticed it, but hadn’t really considered what was in it. She reached into it, pulling out several wrapped presents. Tweek felt his face grow red. He hoped they hadn’t spent that much on him.

 

Tricia hopped up to grab one of them from her mother and handed it to Tweek. “This one is from me! Technically to both of you, but mainly to Tweek because I like you more.”

 

It was a soft package that felt like clothes. Apprehensively he opened it, revealing small clothing. A little bee costume, a dinosaur costume, a ladybug costume, and a little sweater.

 

“They’re for Stripe!” she exclaimed proudly. Stripe was their shared guinea pig that Craig and Tweek bought together when they were ten. They rotated custody on him, but nowadays he mainly stayed at Craig’s house. Still, even if it was more a gift to her brother, it was a sweet thought from a usually not so sweet girl.

 

“Thanks,” Tweek smiled. Craig picked them up and analyzed them carefully without thanking his sister.

 

“This one is from us,” Mrs. Tucker passed over. Craig put the guinea pig clothes aside to watch him. Tweek opened the box. It was a teal coat and blue scarf. He lifted the coat, it seemed to be his exact size.

 

“You kill us always going out in the winter in just a shirt,” Mrs. Tucker explained.

 

Tweek’s parents never thought to buy him a jacket since he was a small child. A few times after not wearing it, they simply stopped trying to make him do so. When he grew out of it he simply never got a new one. Sure, the drugs in his system often made him feel hot, rendering him to not need one. Still, the thoughtfulness made him tear up. Thoughtfulness no one else ever gave him.

 

“This one is from Craig,” she pulled out a smaller box.

 

“It kinda sucks” Craig warned. Tweek opened the box and saw that there was a coffee mug in it, covered by protective inner wrapping. He took off the wrapping paper protecting the mug and saw that on it was a picture of him and Craig from the Tucker’s Fourth of July barbeque this past year. They were both smiling, Craig with a cheesy Uncle Sam hat he wore ironically, both of them in red, white, and blue sunglasses. They were both smiling big, having just laughed at something, their arms around each other. They looked happy.

 

“Sorry, it’s super lame,” Craig apologized, nearly reaching out to take it from him.

 

“No way man, I love it!” Tweek smiled. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, desperately trying to hide his tears, as he carefully rewrapped the mug and put it back in the box.

 

“Told you he’d like it,” Tricia said, “Sometimes you get good ideas.”

 

“Last one’s up,” Mr. Tucker exclaimed. He and his wife picked up a box roughly the size of the second gift, but clearly much heavier, “Craig, help carry it to him.”

 

Craig smiled knowingly at Tweek as he went over and carried it back, giving Tweek a funny yet uncomfortable feeling about what sort of gift it might be.

 

“Now this one is from _all_ of us,” Mrs. Tucker had a bit of excitement in her voice. It made Tweek feel stressed out. They already gave him much too much.

 

Carefully, Tweek kept the box on the table and ripped the wrapping paper away.

 

It was an Alienware laptop.

 

“Now you don’t have to borrow mine all the time,” Craig put arm around him.

 

“Yeah, Craig said you haven’t ever had a laptop since your last one broke. I figured that he meant a few months ago, but when he said that it was over five _years_ ago, we decided it was time for you to get a new one. Craig helped pick it out, since you both like gaming and all,” Mrs. Tucker glowed.

 

“I can’t accept this.”

 

“No problem, Tweek,” Mr. Tucker answered in his booming voice.

 

Tweek’s heart was racing. Alienware laptops cost over a thousand dollars. They couldn’t spend that much money on him. They weren’t rich. He couldn’t accept this.

 

“You’ve given me way too much.”

 

“Tweek, you’re our family,” Mrs. Tucker replied.

 

Tears rolled down Tweek’s face again. This time, he didn’t try and hide it. This time the tears were not solely out of happiness.

 

He _wasn’t_ their family. He was a fucked up sixteen year old meth addict. He didn’t have a future, he didn’t have a glowing life ahead of him. He was a messed up kid who would only disappoint them. He felt like a scam artist, tricking them to believe that he was worthy enough to be their family.

 

He wanted to be with Craig. He wanted to part of the Tucker family. More than anything in the world. But he _wasn’t_ a part of their world.

 

For the first time, he felt truly ashamed that he ever allowed the illusion get this far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for over 1500 hits!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m serious Kenny,” Tweek answered, “I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long! 1) I have been busy IRL and 2) to be honest, this story is kind of emotionally draining to write. I mean, I enjoy writing it! I just needed a little bit of a break. Needing a break, I decided to start another South Park (of course with Creek) fanfic that you can check out!
> 
> Also note: The topic of underage sex is in this chapter, as it has been alluded to for a while now. I don't see any problem with the topic itself being written about. However, as an adult, I personally am not comfortable writing explicit underage sex. Bluntly: you won't get any porn. Sorry if that disappoints some people.

“I should break up with Craig,” Tweek announced as he lit his cigarette.

 

“That’s dumb,” Kenny laughed.

 

Tweek took a drag and exhaled. Cigarettes weren’t really Tweek’s thing. They tasted nasty and made his chest hurt the next day but occasionally, especially when he was stressed, he would take one when Kenny offered.

 

“I’m serious Kenny,” Tweek answered, his voice hollow, “I don’t think I can keep doing this.” 

 

“Tweek, don’t do this shit,” Kenny groaned. He roughly put out his cigarette on the ground and then flicked it away.

 

“Do  _ what _ shit?” Tweek asked defensively.

 

“Did Craig do something terrible the other night at your birthday dinner?” Kenny raised an eyebrow, “Something I should kick his ass over?”

 

“Of course not!” Tweek nearly gasped.

 

“Have you guys fucked yet? Did he suck?”

 

“ _ Kenny!”  _ Tweek jumped.

 

“I mean you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

 

“N-No, we haven’t,” Tweek’s face turned bright red, “B-But ‘ _ that’  _ has nothing to do with it!”

 

“Then what’s the problem with him?”

 

“It’s  _ not _ him! It’s me!”

 

“And you see, there it is.  _ That’s _ the shit I’m talking about. Tweek, Craig loves you. You love Craig. You two are happy together.  You have a thing going on that others would kill for. Why would you fuck that all up?” Kenny grabbed his temple out of annoyance as he tried to explain, his posture sinking lower into the ground.

 

Tweek sunk lower into the ground as well, his back being poked by the splintered wood of the rotting barn wall. He took another long drag before he spoke, “I feel like...I feel like it’s all fake.”

 

Kenny sighed and wordlessly reached for another cigarette and lit it.

 

Tweek continued, “I know your answer is ‘so tell him the truth’ but...the thing is...the thing is, I don’t...He’s the one person who actually believes that I’m  _ not _ ... _ you know _ .”

 

Kenny exhaled.

 

“I  _ can’t _ tell him, but I also...I also don’t want to keep living this way, having a relationship based on this.”

 

“You’d totally fuck him up, you know,” Kenny finally spoke, “If you broke up with him, I mean.”

 

The hand Tweek held his cigarette with began shaking. Without realizing it, tears had started to fall down his face.

 

* * *

 

 

To be honest, Tweek didn’t really expect himself to break up with him anyway.

 

It was especially hard to imagine him considering the idea as they were together on the sofa in Craig’s basement, watching some tacky scifi movie. Craig’s head rested on Tweek’s lap as he ate from the half-spilled bag of popcorn and Tweek could feel Craig’s every jaw movements against his leg. A very odd sensation and not one he would normally think of as significant. Yet, feeling Craig move, a reminder of him being alive, was somehow one of the best things in the world.

 

Tweek paid more attention to Craig’s hair than he did the movie. He loved playing with his hair. Unlike his own that always seemed unruly, Craig’s behaved. He could easily run his fingers through it. He could search his scalp for signs of his natural brown color. He would always point it out when he found some, much to Craig’s feigned dismay. Yet it made both of them smile every time.

 

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Craig complained, popcorn still in his mouth, “I’m never trusting Kevin’s shitty taste again. This is some dumb bullshit.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Tweek smiled.

 

“You’re not even paying attention, are you?” 

 

“Not really.” Instinctively, he bent his torso to kiss Craig’s head. As he started to sit back up, Craig rolled over and grabbed him, holding him down. As to not hurt him, Craig sat up and guided Tweek so that he was also laying on the sofa. Once he was, Craig laid on top of him, pinning him down.

 

Their eyes locked, Craig’s green eyes staring intensely into Tweek’s own blue. As a violent scene in the tacky movie played in the background, slowly Craig brought himself down and kissed Tweek. Most of their kisses, despite how long they had been together, were typically quick pecks. This one, however, Craig held onto. Hesitantly, for the first time in their relationship, Craig used his tongue. 

 

Tweek’s heart beat profusely in his chest as he kissed him back. He grabbed Craig as tightly as he could, his hands grasping Craig’s hair with his one hand. Neither of them knew what they were doing. Tweek was sure they were both doing it all wrong, their tongue movements not really making any sense. Still, it felt right.

 

Tweek didn’t want to let go of this moment. With his free hand, he slowly lightly placed it on Craig’s back. Slowly, he led it down Craig’s spine as he reached the hem of his shirt. Carefully, he slipped his hand under.

 

As soon as his fingers touched his skin, he could feel Craig jump. Immediately, he broke away from the kiss and sat up. It startled Tweek, but he let go, letting him easily break away.

 

“My parents are upstairs,” Craig let out, sounding out of breath from the kiss. Tweek noticed that his face was bright red.

 

“Okay,” Tweek answered. He leaned into Craig, letting his head rest on his shoulder. Craig wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

 

“God, even the cinematography in this movie is awful,” Craig complained, “A four year old could do better than that.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So did you break up with him?” Kenny asked next time they were together in their usual spot.

 

“I said I  _ ‘should’ _ not that I  _ ‘would’, _ ” Tweek defended himself.

 

“Well you  _ shouldn’t, _ ” Kenny replied as he lit his bong. From behind it, Tweek could see him smirking.

 

Tweek only felt like a terrible person.

 

* * *

 

 

“S-So um,” Craig stammered in the middle of the hallway They were seventeen now, both in the middle of their junior year of school. They had a couple classes together and had remained close, even if the guilt within Tweek only continued growing.

 

“Yes?” Tweek asked.

 

“Well, Tricia’s dance troupe is going to Los Angeles this weekend,” Craig announced.

 

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Tweek replied, going through his messy locker to find his worksheet for biology. He had always been naturally disorganized, so it was a struggle. He was also careful to go through it in a way that would hide to Craig all his graded papers with low marks.

 

Tweek wasn’t stupid. Sure, he was no genius but he had the natural capability of doing fine. He just didn’t go to class much and couldn’t bring himself to study or do homework. So his grades, naturally, were struggling.

 

“No it doesn’t,” Craig groaned, “All her dance shit is like four hours long. It’s intolerable bullshit. I would rather die than have to drive all the way to California and watch that.”

 

“Please don’t die,” Tweek tried to smile as he continued to dig through his locker.

 

“Yeah well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Craig replied, “I convinced my parents to let me stay. At first they said I’d have to stay at Uncle Skeeter’s and Red’s which is almost equally fucking obnoxious, but then I convinced them that since I’m seventeen now, I’m perfectly capable of watching myself at home.”

 

“That’s...good I guess?”

 

“So what I’m saying is,” Craig leaned in, trying (and failing) to sound flirty, “My parents aren’t going to be home for two nights. I have the house to myself.”

 

“Don’t get yourself in trouble putting on some big party like in those shitty movies,” Tweek warned as he finally found his paper and pulled it out, “I don’t want to see you get grounded again.”

 

“No dude, you’re not getting my point!” Craig answered, sounding borderline annoyed, “I don’t want to invite a lot of people over. Just...uh,  _ you. _ ”

 

“Oh,” Tweek managed. His face suddenly grew hot.

 

Craig’s face also turned bright red, “I mean...you don’t have to. I don’t want to sound like I’m pressuring y--”

 

“No, I’ll go!” Tweek cut him off, slamming his locker door shut.

 

With that, the bell rang. Craig didn’t answer, he merely kissed the top of his head and quickly headed towards his own class. Tweek couldn’t see his face as he left, but knowing him, he was probably as red as a tomato.

 

* * *

 

Tweek’s hand was shaking as he knocked on Craig’s door.

 

He had his backpack on but instead of school supplies it was stuffed with things to tide him over for the weekend. Kenny had given him “protection” when he told him, much to his embarrassment. He hated how Kenny just happened to be carrying that sort of thing with him, ready to hand over.

 

Tweek was dressed normally. Well, for him. A normal button down shirt and pants. He tried to look as natural as possible. Dressing up bad would look bad, but dressing up would also be embarrassing.

 

“Hey,” Craig opened the door and immediately reached down and kissed him, a short peck. As he broke the kiss, he put his hand on Tweek’s arm and guided him into the house. He was dressed in a loose t-shirt, not unlike one he’d normally wear around his house. Yet, Tweek noticed that his hair seemed more kept than usual.

 

It was weird to hear Craig’s house so quiet. Without the booming voice of his father or the greeting of his mother. Tricia not coming down to argue about something with her brother.

 

“What did you tell your parents?” Craig asked. Tweek could tell that he was trying to sound natural, but his voice was shaky.

 

“Nothing,” Tweek answered, letting his backpack slide off his shoulders and placing it on the floor of the entryway.

 

“Dude, won’t they be worried?” Craig answered, real concern showing on his face, “We really don’t want them calling the police or something.”

 

“I’ve been gone longer and they never said anything.”

 

“Wait,  _ what _ ?!”

 

Tweek’s eyes grew wide. He realized that it was something he had never told Craig.

 

He did sporadically leave, usually crashing at Kenny’s or at their usual place near the abandoned barn. Usually just for a night or two when he needed space from his family, from his house. 

 

One of the first times was just after his sixteenth birthday. His father scolded him for not eating the nice cake his mother made him. His mother cried, claiming that Tweek loved the Tuckers more than his own family. His father ordered him to get rid of all the gifts the Tuckers had given him and stop spending so much time with them, to instead spend that time with family.

 

Tweek was ashamed of the gifts the Tuckers had given him. He hadn’t wanted to accept them. Yet he treasured them more than anything. He wasn’t going to let his father throw everything away like garbage.

 

Tweek flipped the cake off the table, the pan it was in shattering onto the floor, and immediately ran out of his house, not looking back. He didn’t even stop to put the new coat he was given on.

 

He had slept that night on a bench in Stark’s Pond. That is, until he was awoken by a police officer in the very early hours of the morning, telling him that he was trespassing and breaking underage curfew laws. When Tweek started to panic, the policeman decided to take pity on him. He told him he wouldn’t issue a citation and would let him off with a warning if his parents came to pick him up. Tweek didn’t want to deal with his parents, but decided that would be better than going to the police station and them hearing about this anyway. 

 

Minutes later, his father drove down and apologized to the officer and guided Tweek into his car. With his father’s usual calm voice, he apologized to the policeman and guided Tweek back into his car. It was humiliating.

 

“I’m disappointed in you, son,” he told him as they drove home.

 

They didn’t say another word to each other for weeks.

 

The second time was more successful. Tweek didn’t have an emotional reason. To be frank, he was drugged out of his mind. He found himself wandering in the freezing cold, this time wearing his coat and scarf the Tuckers had given him. He was able to take himself to the abandoned barn, and collapsed in the soft snow.

 

Kenny yelled at him when saw him the next morning laying there. He said he thought Tweek was dead. He thought he had frozen to death.

 

At first Tweek thought Kenny was mad at him. That is, until he saw that he was absolutely hysterical, tears running down his face. He had never seen Kenny cry before. Apparently Butters had just completely broken off his friendship with Kenny, so seeing Tweek only a couple days later lying in the snow really got to him.

 

Tweek promised that next time he ran away, he would first go to Kenny’s house.

 

The longest he was out for was a week.

 

Tweek went to dinner to silently eat at the table as he normally did. Or well, he picked at his food and barely ate anything as he normally did. He rarely spoke to his parents, but he silently joined him in their meals as was wordlessly expected of him.

 

“You need to eat,” his father had said, “Going around that skinny makes us look bad.”

 

Tweek’s head raised up, a look of tired bewilderment on his face.

 

“Don’t give us that look, Tweek,” his father scolded, “Your mother prepared a lovely dinner for you. I simply don’t understand why you never appreciate the hard work we put in for you. You’re awfully ungrateful, son.”

 

It was chicken that night, with carrots and peas. All fresh, but completely unflavored. Bland, like his mother’s personality.

 

Though of course, that wasn’t what angered him.

 

“You  _ never _ cared about me,” Tweek said under his breath, “You only care about  _ your  _ image.”

 

“That’s not true, Tweek!” his mother insisted.

 

With one swift slide of his hand, Tweek pushed his plate onto the floor. The food went everywhere on the floor and the china plate shattered. He could feel a very small fracture fly into his leg. It didn’t hurt, and he didn’t care. He stood up and wordlessly pulled the shard out, a little bit of blood visible at the end.

 

His father also stood up. He could hear his mother crying again, but he was used to it by now. Tweek didn’t care, he was prepared to go to his room. He wanted to text Craig, to talk about some dumb movie or homework or something else to get his mind off things. He knew he was selfish for it, but Craig was his one distraction.

 

Instead, he felt his father grab him and shove him back into his chair.

 

“Let go of me,” Tweek said, his voice subdued, his lack of energy surprising even himself. He didn’t resist, but he did manage a glare at him.

 

“Not until you eat,” his father had ordered.

 

“I’m serious, let go of me!” Tweek began to struggle against his father’s grip.

 

“You need to learn to respect your family,” his father continued to hold him. His voice was still in the ever-neutral tone. He reached with his hand for some of the chicken in the center of the table and grabbed a handful, leading it to Tweek’s mouth.

 

“Richard!” his mother had gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks even harder.

 

Tweek continued to struggle as his father held him, trying his best to pry his mouth open. He was much stronger than him, forcing his lips and jaw open as he did his best to force it down his throat. It was practically shoved it down his throat, not giving him a chance to properly chew or swallow. Tweek found himself immediately choking, gasping for air against his father’s arms. He tried to spit it out, but his father put his hand over his mouth so he couldn’t.

 

“Richard, stop!” his mother had yelled, standing up herself.

 

He let go at his wife’s request. Tweek found himself falling to the floor on his hands and knees, some of the plate shatters digging into his palm. He coughed and coughed, swallowing some and coughing up the rest.

 

“You know son, there are terrible parents out there that don’t even feed their kids,” his father commented.

 

Tweek didn’t say anything. He merely got up and ran. Ran out the door. He refused to come home for a week after that. As he had promised earlier, he went to Kenny’s house. He borrowed some of his clothes and tried to be his most normal self at school. He would kiss Craig in the hallway, try his best to work well at school. Only Kenny knew what was going on.

 

Eventually he went home. Kenny’s dad complained about him being there too long and he really didn’t have anywhere to go. He spent a night in their hangout, but he really needed a shower and new clothes.

 

When he did finally go home, his parents didn’t burst through the doors relieved that he was okay. They didn’t seem concerned at all. His mother was at the grocery store, while his father was sitting at the sofa reading a book.

 

“Even if you’re not coming home,” his father said, “Make sure you show up for your shift at the coffee shop.”

 

Of course, Tweek didn’t want to tell Craig any of this. Not then, not now.

 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” was all he responded with a shrug.

 

“Well dude, now I’m worried,” Craig put a hand on Tweek’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t be,” Tweek tried to smile. Ironically, he found himself feeling like the one comforting Craig, as opposed to the reverse. “I just need some space sometimes. My parents don’t care.”

 

“Babe, running away is a big deal,” Craig moved his hand to caress Tweek’s face, “It actually kinda hurts that you kept something that big about your life from me.”

 

Those words hit Tweek’s heart like a dagger. Tears began flooding in his eyes.

 

“I-I’m not mad though,” Craig quickly clarified as he noticed his tears, “I just wanna help you, babe.” 

 

Tweek’s tears became more rapid as he squeezed Craig as tightly as possible into a big hug.

 

* * *

 

 

They ended up  _ not _ having sex that night.

 

Tweek was fully ready to go all the way with Craig. He actually had been ready for a very long time. He  _ wanted _ that level of a connection with Craig.

 

It had started out fine.

 

Craig initiated it. They were playing some trashy video game Craig had gotten when he had out of the blue leaned over to kiss him. At first, he kissed him as he normally would, but then it grew. It also got more and more  _ handsy. _

 

“My room?” Craig asked, breaking the kiss, his voice soft yet nervous.

 

“Okay,” Tweek smiled.

 

The walk from the living room to Craig’s upstairs was far more awkward than he expected. Neither of them really knew what to do, they had to walk and not fall down the stairs. Craig awkwardly had his arm around Tweek. 

 

Once they got to his bed, however, things seemed to get back on track. Both being inexperienced, they took it slow. They just kissed for what felt like hours, both afraid of taking it any further.

 

Eventually the suspense was driving Tweek insane. He didn’t want to just sit there kissing him. He wanted to go all the way. He slid his hands lower onto Craig, starting from his sholders and down to his waist. Beneath him, he could feel Craig shiver as he slowly moved his hands, his kissing becoming more strained.

 

Yet the second his hands were around his belt loops, teasing the rim of his pants, he found himself flipped over, back against the bed. It was quick, Tweek didn’t even realize what had happened until moments later. Craig had shoved him off.

 

At first, Tweek immediately wondered if Craig was about to climb onto him and pin him down. That’s what happened in a lot of the the “research material” Tweek had seen, anyway. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked over and saw Craig also laying down on his back, his hands harshly covering his face.

 

“God, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” Craig’s voice was slightly muffled through his hands. His voice was strained, and it was in a concerned, almost embarrassed sort of tone Tweek was unsure if he ever heard from him before.

 

“It-It’s okay,” Tweek said in a calm voice, rolling over on his side to face his boyfriend.

 

“I’m so...I can’t believe I...I’m sorry, we can keep goi--”

 

“It’s seriously okay, Craig,” Tweek lifted the hand he wasn’t laying on and placed it on Craig’s arm, which was still covering his face. Slowly, he guided Craig’s hands away from his face. After his hands were gone, Craig sighed for a moment, and rolled over on his side as well to face him.

 

Craig’s face was bright red. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes were red and slightly watery, probably out of self-frustration.

 

“I just, uh...freaked out?” Craig finally let out, “I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”

 

“Please stop apologizing.”

 

“It was lame as hell, man.”

 

“It’s normal to be afraid of sex.”

 

“God, that just sounds even  _ more _ fucking lame,” Craig groaned, rolling back onto his back, covering his face with his arms. “Imagine if fucking Clyde heard about this.”

 

“Clyde is never going to know.”

 

“God, I...Let’s just-Let’s just try again, okay?”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Craig uncovered his face to look at Tweek again, bewildered.

 

“No, I won’t,” Tweek clarified, “You’re not comfortable with this. So I refuse.”

 

“God,  _ please _ stop saying it like that, babe. You’re making me feel even more lame.”

 

“Craig, it’s  _ me, _ ” Tweek insisted, “I’m your  _ boyfriend _ .”

 

“I know! You’re my boyfriend! I want to be the best I can be for you, you’re the  _ last _ person I want to show weakness to!” He could tell by the look on Craig’s face that he didn’t mean to blurt that out. He groaned again, this time rolling onto his stomach, face into the pillow.

 

Tweek’s heart ached.

 

“Craig,” Tweek sat up and gently placed his hand on Craig’s back, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to  _ save _ me all the time, like you have to build yourself up to be able to help me. That’s not a healthy relationship.”

 

Craig didn’t respond. Tweek slowly started drawing circles into Craig’s back.

 

Tweek continued, “Craig, I know you have a lot of hurt you won’t tell me.  _ I  _ want to help  _ you. _ ”

 

“Goddammit Tweek, don’t do this. I’m  _ not _ helping you like I should be. Fuck, I didn’t even know until today that my own boyfriend was running away from his own home. God,  _ what else _ do I not know about you? Why should you trust me, I can’t even do thi--”

 

“You help me more than you think, Craig.”

 

Craig shifted under his hand and rolled himself over and sat up. The two both sitting, sat side by side, their backs against Craig’s headboard. Craig sat far away enough that he was no longer touching Tweek.

 

“I don’t think I’m a good person,” Craig finally sighed.

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Tweek immediately let out, shocked by that statement.

 

“Let me finish,” Craig let out a forced, fake smile, “I don’t think I’m a good person, but I feel like with you, I kinda can fake it. That’s why...when I can’t be ‘how I should be’ for you, I feel like I fucked up. I want to be a good person for you.”

 

“You  _ are. _ ”

 

“God, I...I don’t know if you know exactly what I mean,” Craig continued.

 

“Then explain to me.”

 

“You know I’m not good at words.”

 

“Neither am I.”

 

“ _ No _ Tweek,” Craig insisted, “I mean I’m  _ really _ bad at words. Like... _ feelings. _ I’m bad at those too. So put feelings and words together, it’s a fucking mess. The idea of  _ showing  _ feelings is--It fucks me up.”

 

“You’re afraid of being emotionally vulnerable,” Tweek explained, “So you portray that by being a hardass to most people and protective over me. Because those are things that make you seem tough, like you have a hard shell.”

 

“What?”

 

“I always knew that.  _ Everyone  _ knows that about you, Craig,” Tweek smiled slightly.

 

“It sucks man,” Craig began twiddling his thumbs, looking to them instead of Tweek.

 

“I didn’t know just how bad you’re hurting, though.”

 

Craig jumped slightly, and looked directly at Tweek. He opened his mouth slightly, but was unable to speak.

 

“From now on, let’s  _ both _ help each other, okay?” Tweek prompted, “Equally?”

 

“Dude, your problems are  _ way  _ worse than--”

 

“Promise me.”

 

“Okay,” Craig sighed. He leaned over and kissed Tweek.

 

It was hard, but the two did their best to talk things out. Tweek knew he was being hypocritical not sharing his deepest secrets with Craig, but he did his best to open up about his feelings. About his home life, about his struggles in school.  Craig tried his best to open up in turn, although Tweek could see him struggle. They talked the night away, until Craig finally drifted to sleep. Tweek laid beside him, keeping a few inches apart. They didn’t even give another attempt to have sex that night, but Tweek didn't mind.

 

The following night, however, they finally  did.

 

* * *

 

 

A month later, Tweek found himself unable to keep his side of the bargain.

 

It was late one night, Tweek was over at Craig’s house as his sister had another one of her dance competitions. This time it was in neighboring Utah, Craig’s family only gone for a Saturday night.

 

At first, they were planning on coming straight home, but apparently both Craig’s parents had gotten wasted during her recital and were in no proper state to drive home. Instead they opted to stay in a motel, much to Tricia’s dismay.

 

It was very last minute when Craig sent a late night text for him to come over.

 

Tweek knew that he was soon going to be suffering from withdrawal, having not consumed any meth for over a day now. He shouldn’t go. It would be very, very bad for him to go.

 

_ “He’ll probably find out,”  _ a voice told him.

 

Yet, he wanted  _ so badly _ to sleep with Craig again. Ever since they first did, it was all he could think of. It was like he had another addiction added to his plate.

 

Of course, he would never sleep with Craig while high. Kenny said sex while high was the best, but Tweek didn’t want that. He didn’t  _ want _ to grow to only enjoy sex that was “improved” by drugs, unable to enjoy it sober.

 

He knew it was stupid, but with withdrawal at least he wasn’t high and could perhaps fake being okay. Sometimes withdrawal wasn’t as bad. Sometimes he was able to function.

 

When he arrived, Craig didn’t prepare any food as Tweek rarely ate. Except, with withdrawal kicking in, he was  _ starving _ . He needed food, he needed to eat to make up for the days he went without. He barely even asked for permission before he immediately went for Craig’s kitchen.

 

“I’m glad you’re eating,” Craig said cautiously as he put out leftovers on the table, “But you’re kinda...really shoving food into your face there, Tweek.”

 

_ “He thinks you’re disgusting,” _ the voice told him.

 

“Sorry,” Tweek managed with his mouth full of leftover spaghetti.

 

“I-It’s okay, dude.”

 

Most of the food wouldn’t stay down. It rarely did. Usually, he was good at covertly puking. This time, however, he wasn’t. He felt full fledged sick, and couldn’t bring himself to stop. He couldn’t hide it from Craig.

 

Craig sat at the edge of the bathtub, holding back Tweek’s bangs as he vomited into his toilet. Tweek had become sweaty and clammy, so Craig brought a cool wet washcloth to place on the back of Tweek’s neck.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tweek groaned when he was able to stop vomiting long enough to speak, “I must be getting sick.”

 

“Tweek, it’s--” 

 

_ “He doesn’t believe you.”  _

 

“Tweek, do you have an eating disorder? Do you have bulimia?”

 

“Wh-What? No!” Tweek answered honestly, his voice weak but genuinely surprised. He wiped his face with some toilet paper.

 

“Then explain this to me.”

 

“It’s my health. It’s normal for me,” Tweek managed. He threw the toilet paper into the bowl and flushed. Somehow, the flushing noises triggered him to puke some more.

 

“You just said that you thought you were  _ getting  _ sick.”

 

“I’ve told you a million times, Craig!” Tweek whined through his weak voice, his head resting on the toilet bowl, “I have a messed up digestive tract. I get ulcers and sick easy.”

 

“My dad gets ulcers,” Craig removed his hand from Tweek’s head, his bangs lightly dropping onto his sweaty forehead, “He’s not…”

 

“Like what? Like  _ me _ ?”

 

“Tweek, you know what I mean,” Craig’s voice grew slightly strained.

 

“No I don’t,” Tweek furrowed his eyebrows. He barely had any strength, but he tried to use the toilet bowl as leverage to help him sit up on the ground.

 

“I mean  _ I’m worried about you _ ! You wanted me to open up to you, and I’ve been trying! But it’s a two way street, dude. I don’t like having the feeling that you’re keeping shit from me! You gotta tell me what’s going on!” Craig’s voice grew louder, but Tweek could hear it shaking as if he was about to cry.

 

_ “He’s onto you.” _

 

“Craig,” Tweek managed, his voice getting weaker and weaker. He knew he was being hypocritical. He told Craig to be honest with him, but Tweek was never honest himself. He wanted to help Craig, but he knew he never could. He closed his eyes, the exhaustion and stress getting too much to handle. He had more to say, but with the exhaustion he physically couldn’t He didn’t stop himself from drifting to sleep.

 

Tweek found himself waking up in Craig’s bed. He must have carried him back into his room. He opened his eyes slowly. He noticed he was wearing a loose t-shirt of Craig’s. Craig himself wasn’t there.

 

_ “He probably took advantage of you when you were passed out.” _

 

Tweek yelled at the voice, rolling over and drowning his head in the pillow.

 

“Tweek? Are you okay?” Craig heard from the other side of the closed door of the room. A few moments later, Craig slowly opened the door. He was dressed, albeit in a casual t-shirt. His hair on the other hand was unkempt and his face looked as though he hadn’t slept.

 

“Where are my clothes?” Tweek found himself jerking into a upright sitting position on the bed.

 

“I’m washing them,” Craig answered, his voice surprisingly neutral.

 

“Why am I not wearing them?”

 

“Dude you puked all over them, I wasn’t gonna let you get vomit all over my bed.”

 

“You  _ did _ take my clothes off!” Tweek found his fingers gripping his hair and pulling, “What did you do to me?”

 

“Tweek, calm down!” Craig practically yelled, “What the fuck are you saying? I didn’t do fucking  _ anything _ , I just helped my boyfriend into clean clothing and into my room so you wouldn’t be sleeping in a pool of your own fucking vomit! I didn’t even touch your underwear, if that’s what you’re worried about. Jesus Christ, dude.”

 

“The voices,” Tweek squeezed his eyes shut. He realized he was hyperventilating. He trusted Craig, but it was hard to resist the voices.

 

Before he knew it he felt a hand lightly brush his back, making him jump. He hadn’t realized Craig had moved to sit next to him on the bed.

 

“Tweek, you scared the  _ shit _ out of me,” Craig said, his voice softer, “You wouldn’t wake up. I wasn’t sure if I should call 9-11. I didn’t know what to do. You seemed to be breathing alright, but I couldn’t just let you lay there.”

 

Tweek squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, his hands gripping his hair even more harshly. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

 

“It’s 2 pm now, by the way,” Craig continued, “My parents were pissed, but I said you were having a panic attack and had nowhere to go. I told them I even slept in Tricia’s room. Which, I didn’t, but not because I wanted to hurt you, but because I needed to make sure you were still fucking breathing.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tweek repeated, tears began flowing down his face.

 

“Stop apologizing,” Craig ordered, though his voice was very gentle. He was hesitant, afraid to frighten Tweek, but slowly moved closer. Analyzing his every move to see his reaction, making sure he was respecting his boundaries, Craig slowly moved close enough and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, bringing him into a hug. Tweek let him, but didn’t make an effort to change his own position.

 

“You’re not mad?” Tweek managed to ask through his sobs.

 

“No dude!” Craig almost sounded shocked by the insinuation, “I want to  _ help _ you.”

 

That response made Tweek feel even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little messy, though to an extent I tried to intentionally make it that way as I felt Tweek's feelings and life kind of are. However, I'm not sure if I like how it turned out so constructive feedback is 100% welcome.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this story!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senior year doesn't always go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....this was actually intended to be part of a longer chapter. I guess...I kind of haven't been in the proper head space to write this fic recently? But I realized what I had written already kinda works well enough as one SO here is a short and messy chapter from this messy fic. 
> 
> Don't worry, I'm still writing this. Like I said, though, I kinda have to be in a certain mood to do so. Usually a sort of negative one. So while it sucks for this fic that I haven't been writing it as much lately, on the other hand it's because I've been happier lately? Regardless, I'll try to post more regularly.

“Tweek open the door!”

 

_ “Don’t!” _

 

_ “He called the police on you!!!” _

 

_ “He implanted BUGS under your skin!” _

 

He could feel the bugs. He could see them crawl over his eyes, in his field of vision.

 

Tweek screamed. He could see the bugs piling up on a spot on his elbow. They were crawling there, collecting under there. If he popped it, they would climb out, like newborn spiders emerging from an egg. The pressure hurt.

 

“Why would you do this to me?” Tweek sobbed. 

 

“If you don’t open the door, so help me--”

 

_ “Jump out the window!” _

 

“I know everything, Tweek,” the voice yelled muffled through the door but clear as day, “Everyone knows everything! You lied to me!”

 

“Stop!” Tweek sobbed. He couldn’t stop shaking, jerking but he tried to steady his hand enough to pick at the spot on his elbow. His nails dug at it, tearing the skin open. He could feel the release of the bugs, flowing out.

 

“I can’t  _ believe _ you! I  _ slept  _ with you! You’re fucking disgusting.”

 

“Please stop!” Tweek wailed. 

 

“Open the fucking door or I’ll kill you!”

 

“I’m sorry,” he continued to rock on the bed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

“I  _ should  _ kill you for the bullshit you’ve done to me. But if you fucking open the door I won’t.”

 

_ “Escape out the window!” _

 

_ “You’ll die if you jump out the window, stupid.” _

 

“Go away!” Tweek screamed.

 

“Not until you open the fucking door!”

 

_ “Just do it.” _

 

_ “Get it over with already.” _

 

Would Craig kill him if he opened the door?

 

_ “He might strangle you.” _

 

_ “Maybe he has a gun. Or a knife.” _

 

“Craig, you wouldn’t really kill me!” Tweek roughly rubbed his face, trying to get the tears from his eyes, “You wouldn’t--”

 

“Don’t test me!”

 

His whole body shaking, he forced himself off the bed and onto his feet.

 

_ “Don’t do it, moron!” _

 

“I’ll open the door,” Tweek forced himself to say as he walked to the door on shaky legs, “If you won’t hurt me.”

 

“Just open the  _ fucking door _ !”

 

_ “He’s lying.” _

 

His hand shaking, he reached for the doorknob. Gently, he undid the lock.

 

“I can fucking hear you, so hurry and open up!”

 

_ “Run away now!” _

 

“Craig,” Tweek sobbed. Slowly, he turned the door now. He took a deep breath and swung the door open. “Craig I’m so sor--”

 

No one was there.

 

_ “Crazy idiot.” _

 

Tweek fell to his knees. He continued to sob.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks.

 

It was his senior year of high school and he had hardly left his room in three weeks.

 

The first couple, he forced himself to text Craig and Kenny, to let him know that he was still alive. It was a struggle, but he managed some basic conversation. He told Kenny he needed space and told Craig that he was too sick to see him right now.

 

Then the hallucination happened.

 

It was so real. He truly believed that it was Craig.

 

He hadn’t touched his phone in a week. He hadn’t talked to anyone since then, not even his parents.

 

He warned Craig. He sent a text beforehand, admitting that he was in a terrible mental state. He begged him not to come over until he was ready.

 

He had faith that Craig would listen. Every time the voices mimicked him, he convinced himself it wasn’t real. Craig wasn’t there. He wouldn’t say that. It was all fake.

 

He missed Craig. He missed him so terribly.

 

He was ready, he decided. He desperately needed a shower, so that would have to come first. He hadn’t showered in days and it showed, so he took his time. It felt nice to get all the grime off of him, the layers of sweat that stuck to him like slime.

 

He quickly pulled on a hoodie and some pants. His hair was still wet, but he didn’t want to bother.

 

His phone was dead. He would try to answer texts later, but he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to see Craig now, even if it was unannounced.

 

He grabbed his keys on his dresser and went down the stairs. His parents were eating dinner, without him, but he continued walking.

 

“If you’re feeling better, can I expect to see you at the shop tomorrow?” his father called. Tweek ignored him as he exited out the door.

 

It was October, already getting chilly in South Park. He pulled the hood up so that it would cover his ears. He pulled on the strings, tightening the hood around his head. It reminded him of how Kenny used to always wear his orange coat when they were younger.

 

He made a mental note to text Kenny first thing when he got back home.

 

Tweek tried his best to breathe in the crisp fall air. The leaves were changing color. He always loved the look of the pretty red, orange, and yellow leaves. He breathed in and out. He needed to be focused, to take in life. To ground himself.

 

He still saw shadow people in his vision, but he was used to them. He resigned to himself that they were probably a universal constant he would just have to live with.

 

When he arrived at the Tucker’s place he pressed the doorbell once. Part of him wondered if it was poor taste for him to arrive unannounced. Part of him wondered what Craig’s reaction would be.

 

“Tweek?” a surprised yet quiet voice asked, opening the door. It was Mrs. Tucker.

 

“Hi, is Craig home?”

 

“No, sorry he isn’t,” Mrs. Tucker responded, sounding confused. “He’s with Clyde and the boys for the bonfire camping trip this weekend. I figured you were with them.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Is everything alright, Tweek?”

 

“Y-Yeah,” Tweek forced a fake smile, “Sorry I was sick and I totally forgot about that. I should go home.”

 

“Well, okay. It’s kind of chilly out, would you like me to drive you home?”

 

“No, it’s alright.”

 

“Please take care, Tweek.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I mean it Tweek,” she said, “You’re like a second son to me.”

 

As if he had no control of his body, he found himself hugging her tightly. It threw her off guard, but she slowly placed her arms around him, hugging him back. He started to cry, tears dripping on her green blouse. Noticing this, she pulled him in tighter, hugging him like a mother should.

 

 

 

Tweek opened up Facebook on his laptop. He very rarely used it, so naturally he had a lot of spam notifications. He didn’t bother looking at what any of them were.

 

He knew he should be texting Kenny, but he forgot to plug his phone in before he left. Kenny could wait.

 

He hesitantly typed “Clyde Donovan” into the search bar.

 

Craig, too, only occasionally updated his Facebook nowadays. Clyde, however, he could always count on using it.

 

“Having the BEST times with my bros at the BONFIRE #fall #bonfire #bestbros #bros”

 

Clyde had posted several photos in the past day, the recentmost being in the past hour.

 

Jimmy playing a little guitar. Token and Clyde seeming to push each other over in some leaves. Craig toasting a marshmallow, looking annoyed. A selfie of all four of them. Craig helping Token set up the tent, laughing at something. Craig and Clyde laying on a pile of leaves, both laughing.

 

Craig was happy.

 

_ “I figured you were with them.” _

 

Tweek wasn’t overprotective of Craig. He didn’t mind him going off with his friends without him.

 

Still, the fact that Craig was having fun with his friends without him while he was at home suffering, wishing he could be with him. He hadn’t talked to him for over a week, but he seemed perfectly fine that way. He knew it was selfish and unfair, but it hurt.

 

It hurt a lot.

 

* * *

 

 

He went to school Monday. He didn’t want to, but he figured he should. It was a surefire way to see Craig, at least.

 

“Babe, I missed you,” Craig greeted him with a kiss square on the mouth, “Why didn’t you answer any of my texts? I’m not mad but...I missed you!”

 

“My charger broke,” Tweek answered. It felt good to kiss Craig again, but something felt wrong.

 

“Yeah well it sucked without you, dude,” Craig put his arms around his waist, “School sucked without you. I had to put up with  _ Clyde _ of all people.”

 

“You didn’t seem to mind in any of the bonfire pictures.”

 

Craig pulled his hands away. “Tweek, I invited you. I texted and called you multiple times. You told me you were sick and not to show up at your house, so I didn’t.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Tweek, come on. You can’t expect me to not have a fucking life when you’re sick or not in school,” Craig groaned.

 

“What the fuck are you saying?” Tweek felt anger rise up in his chest, “I went through fucking hell these past few weeks and all you have to say is how you shouldn’t  _ feel bad _ for having fun without me? I didn’t say you fucking couldn’t, Craig.”

 

“C’mon babe,” Craig wrapped his arms tighter around him, “That’s not...Of  _ course _ I felt terrible without you. I wished you were there, babe.”

 

“Don’t ‘ _ babe’  _ me,” Tweek pushed Craig’s arms away, “You feel guilty and are trying to act like I’m the one guilting  _ you. _ ”

 

“Tweek this is stupid, what the fuck are we even arguing about?” Craig’s eyebrows furrowed, “I missed you, you missed me. I don’t want to be without you, but I was. I wish I wasn’t. Do you really think I want to be at this goddamn hellhole school without you?”

 

“Well, you’re just going to have to get used to it, because I’m dropping out.”

 

“What?” Craig asked, his face shocked.

 

“I missed a month of school my senior year, Craig,” Tweek looked down at his shoes, “I already have shitty grades.”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Craig reached for Tweek’s chin and lifted up, making him look at him, “You’re not dropping out, Tweek.”

 

“You don’t have a say in that,” Tweek said, looking him square in the eye.

 

“Whatever,” Craig scowled and let go, turning away, “Do what you want.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m dropping out of school.”

 

“Are you crazy?! You can’t!”

 

“Yep,” Kenny said, “My family is fucking broke. I figure if I drop out and get a job, I can help them and also put some money towards Karen going to a nice school.”

 

“Kenny,” Tweek pleaded, “You were going to be the first one in your family! You’ve talked about this since we were in middle school!”

 

“Yeah well, I’m failing Geometry anyway,” Kenny laughed, lighting his cigarette, “I think I don’t have a lot of choices.”

 

“Kenny, please!” Tweek begged.

 

Kenny laughed, choking on his cigarette smoke. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say, too?”

 

Tweek bit his bottom lip. It would be hypocritical to announce his dropping out while trying to beg Kenny to stay in school.

 

“I’ve been in danger of not graduating, too,” he announced carefully, “I even considered dropping out, too--”

 

“Okay, well, you  _ really  _ shouldn’t,” Kenny interjected, “You need to get away from your fucked up parents. You don’t have a little sibling to hold on for like I--”

 

“But I’ll make a deal,” Tweek interjected, trying to put on a serious face, “I’ll stay in school. I’ll try and graduate.”

 

“Tweek, don’t--”

 

“If you do too.”

 

“Goddammit, Tweek,” Kenny burnt out his cigarette on the ground.

 

“Deal?” Tweek reached his hand out to Kenny, offering it to him for a handshake.

  
“Whatever,” Kenny rolled his eyes, reaching for his hand, “I’ll  _ think _ about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr now @ wintergrew!
> 
> Undecided if I'll delete this and post the full intended chapter later or keep it as is. Also I kinda didn't proofread like I should, so feel free to let me know if I made errors anywhere. Any feedback is accepted.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any comments you may have! Constructive feedback is 1000% welcome!
> 
> Edit: I made a tumblr for this account :) https://wintergrew.tumblr.com/


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